A Journey Of A Thousand Miles
by is-in-another-castle
Summary: Hikigaya Hachiman and Kawasaki Saki enjoy several study sessions together.
1. Step: 91,045

Standard Disclaimer: I don't own Oregairu and I do not make money publishing this story.

* * *

 **A Journey Of A Thousand Miles**

* * *

'I have a girlfriend.'

A single sentence that pertains the speaker as the subject and another person as the object that is indicated to be in his possession. Of course that is not meant as literally owning another human being but more as a vague sense of belonging and forming an important part of that person's life.

For a loner a girlfriend should be a paradigm shift. The notion of having a friend without any indication of a word signifying a negative before 'have' is absurd to a loner. The emphasis on the gender of the other person makes it even more complicated because it refers to the low chance of people from opposite genders just being friends.

I wonder if this particular convention of our language was conceived after the phenomenon was observed or if the language is subconsciously creating this separation between people. In essence, a variant on the ancient question whether the environment affects the mind or vice versa.

However, the applicability of this concept can be called into doubt when discussing a loner. It depends on the definition of what a loner really is and it would be fair to say that a loner is more often alone than truly lonely. I, for one, blessed with some intellect and enough words and given time cannot silence my thoughts and my best conversations and jokes are purely for me to enjoy. Consequently, I am never lonely and have most of the company I need at hand. Therefore, the negative attributes of loneliness as defined by society just exist to vindicate the virtues of petty extroverts and people who just cannot appreciate being alone. It is as if we abandon the origins of wabi-sabi [1] more and more.

What I did not expect was that even with a girlfriend I would retain some aspects of being alone with my own thoughts and it makes me treasure both these moments of comfortable silence and my girlfriend who enables them all the more.

My girlfriend, one Kawasaki Saki, is currently positioned to my left on another side of the corner of the kotatsu of the Hikigaya household that is packed with our notes, writing equipment, textbooks, a small bowl full of snacks prepared by yours truly and two glasses filled with juice.

We are both peering into our textbooks and taking notes for a history assignment about the Azushi-Momoyama period [2].

Our current objective is to summarize the reforms of that period and argue their virtues and failings.

The last time I actually gave thought to the triumvirate that unified Japan was when I gave a lesson to Yuigahama in the clubroom about why the roots of the most overused cliché characters can be found within them.

My theory was that the hot-blooded hero, the cool and collected counterpart and the comic relief have ingrained themselves in Japanese culture from flanderized historical versions of these three men.

Although Yukinoshita objected to my 'oversimplification of modern Japanese fiction and ham-fisted historical analogies', our resident bimbo used my logic in an essay of hers that got her the best marks she has had so far. Still not even approaching mine, though. Plus, I am sure she unknowingly pandered to Hiratsuka-sensei's taste in anime for this one.

In contrast, I learned early enough that Kawasaki prefers doing things her own way.

Her diligence is truly inspiring, her notes are far longer than mine, albeit a little more erratic and she is some paragraphs behind me if my honed vision out of the corner of my eyes does not deceive me whereas my notes are far more concise and to the point.

To be honest, that is not a result of my orderly nature as my mother and dear sister who regularly have to clean up the mess I leave behind can attest to - I simply believe in not exerting myself too much.

After some more quiet minutes filled by the sound of her pen scratching paper and the sound of pages being turned, she pushes her pen down on her notes, sighs and furrows her brow in annoyance as if the history textbook in front of her somehow offended her.

"Why do these things always take so long?"

She complains to no one in particular and angrily pushes a strand of light blue hair from her bangs out of her field of vision.

I choose to remain silent and take a more direct glance at her side of the table. Her notes have grown considerably and - wow, it seems like I am nearly two pages ahead of her in the textbook.

Being the good boyfriend and study partner that I am, I try to help her.

"Maybe the problem lies with you." I suggest lamely.

 _Big mistake!_

The glare she is sending me promises a slow and painful demise if I cannot avoid this death flag. I should better do something before her beauty mark can serve as the foundation for a prison tattoo [3].

I decide for a hasty retreat. "Your notes are just too long and detailed."

She looks down at her own writing and then mine.

Now that I have dodged this bullet and managed to avert the Medusa's deadly stare I should focus her attention further away from me.

"If you take your time and compartmentalize the text, you'll get the gist of it and that should suffice."

Her eyes remain fixated on her own paper in front of her while she mulls over my words.

"But that means I could miss something important."

"It's a risk, but no one demands perfection from you."

Her features eventually soften up at that.

It is true, we are surely not the greatest pair of people around and therefore our teachers should learn to accept our limitations and imperfections.

We continue to bury our heads into our books. She is advancing through the text at a pretty steady pace now and is making far more efficient progress.

Only her right hand, now left with little to do, begins to fidget. She plays distractedly with her pen when she does not use it to take notes. Her ponytail begins to sway from side to side as she grows more restless.

At some point she tenses up but eventually relaxes and a sigh escapes her. She follows this routine maybe two more time before the tension does not subside and she turns her head to me.

"Hey, umm ..."

I answer her with a non-committal grunt to acknowledge her but she seems hesitant.

The look she gives me is pitiful and nervous and I have no idea why. _You do know where the bathroom is in this house, right?_

She glances downwards and steels herself.

"Um, ... is there a place anywhere around here I can smoke?"

My incredulous look gives my answer away and as a result she continues pleading with more desperation.

"I don't mean within your house, I could go outside, on the street or whatever."

She says as she rubs the sleeve of her grey hoodie. _Why do you even have one of those when I am positive that your hair cannot be contained by the cowl, woman?_

Sorry, but the answer is no. Not only does it go it against my rules as gentleman to throw a guest out but it would not do the neighborhood any good if there was a smoking highschool girl right outside our house.

Plus, I fear my parents or my sister might smell it on you and I would be the one to receive a lecture for that.

Therefore, I choose to answer her with a reply that cannot be possibly misconstrued as a 'yes'.

"No."

She seems dejected by that with the way her eyes grow dim. _I am sorry but please see it my way, okay?_

"What's there even to gain from smoking?"

I try to ask her while formulating a logical argument.

"It smells, costs money and corporate slaves use it as an excuse to stop working and take a pause."

 _Did I just extol the virtues of those who remain at their desk and work? No, I am verifiably concerned with efficiency which is only a little bit better. Thank you, Pops, for poisoning my mind!_

However, there are more pressing matters at hand because I have hurt her with that and I can see her flinching at my words.

A little testily she replies.

"It's not that I want to get away from this or you. It ... , it's calming."

"How so?"

"I dunno, it gives you something to do, I guess."

She says and shrugs her shoulders.

She glances at her right hand that is on the table. It is lying on its back and she flexes it as if to prove her point and now I see what this is all about. A solution is already on my mind _._

 _Is that all? I will definitely free you from this predicament._

"Don't worry, your boyfriend has a remedy to occupy your hand."

After a short puzzled look her eyes light up and she begins to blush at my words. In an instant her worried face is replaced with one sporting a bashful smile.

 _Ha, that preemptive appreciation is well-spent - now bear witness to the splendor of Hikigaya hospitality!_

I make a grand gesture out of it as I push the bowl of snacks closer to her.

 _See, this is what this is also good for. Snacks do not only provide sustenance and a sugar rush that keeps the brain working but the wrappers can be used for a variety of purposes. You can straighten it out, scrunch it up or tear it apart. For example, I'm pretty sure I hold a personal record for how accurately I can throw candy wrappers into the trash can in my room from almost any position. It might be even one of my most regularly trained loner skills because hand-eye coordination is always useful for avoiding other people and their carelessness regarding physical contact._

She deflates at my selfless action although I am sure I took the most sensible choice.

Her hand stays motionlessly on its back on the table.

 _Oi, I am not feeding you! As a good and considerate boyfriend I should assume you are capable of independent action. Couples who are feeding each other are just annoying and anyway it's only a majorly embarrassing thing riajuus would do. And how do you think we can finish this assignment while doing that?_

While she exhibits clear signs of betrayed hopes her fingers flex once more in a manner that reminds me of something but I am not sure at first.

It slowly dawns on me that from a certain perspective they almost form what could, perhaps, maybe, under certain circumstances, with a grain of salt, if I am not mistaken, be termed a 'beckoning motion'?

 _Oh._

 _OH!_

Man, I take it all back. I'm not a good boyfriend or host. I'm just new at this and I cannot do anything if you misinterpret my innocent words. Still, my pride as a man is on the line and I should do good on my declaration even if it was misunderstood.

 _No one should ever dare to assume that the needs of a female have been ignored in the Hikigaya household even if it is to the detriment of a male!_

Somewhere far away I feel all my male ancestors nodding at that statement in a manner that is equal parts sagely and dispirited.

I lift my left hand and reluctantly put it on top of her right hand. Both of them are completely flat and our muscles and tendons are poised to retreat at the slightest indication of inconvenience from the other person.

We are both blushing furiously now, I can imagine. Certainly, I can say so for myself but right now I am looking anywhere but in Kawasaki's direction.

For a while we stay in that awkward silence that comes with embarrassment. As I slowly get familiar with that new sensation, I notice the subtle nuances of her hand. It is far softer than mine, I realize.

She obviously uses a hand cream to facilitate this difference but I can hardly notice that over the creases and crevices in her palm as my hand slowly becomes accustomed to this situation.

I also never understood before how velvety the skin on a girl's wrist is and how delicate it is.

I barely recall when I decide to move my fingers to validate these observations out of a morbid curiosity I cannot quite explain and after a small pause she begins to react and move hesitantly on her own.

Her fingers are thinner than mine and when her fingertips and nails move along the skin of my own palm I feel slightly ticklish.

We stay like this for a little while, gently caressing each other with all the trepidation and diligence that the birds that clean crocodile jaws I once read about must experience.

Over time I begin to feel how warm holding hands in this manner actually is. Actually, It is unbearably hot and my hand appears to be extremely clammy as a result.

The subsequent discomfort propels the unfinished assignment to the forefront of my mind. It is exactly how I predicted it, we forgot to finish what we originally set out to do if we behave so foolishly.

I slowly retract my hand from hers while I try to signal how apologetic I am with my eyes.

It is the first time I am actually directly looking at her since we have begun this physical exercise. She is focused solely on both of our hands and has ceased nearly all movement except for the fingers on her right hand.

As soon as she gets my intention she looks up. The extraordinary mixture of confusion and hurt on her face nearly breaks me. In a futile attempt to savor the feeling her fingers curl upwards to keep our skin in contact for as much as possible but I have made up my mind.

Almost.

 _I mustn't run away, I mustn't run away, I mustn't run away [4]!_

If it were not for that last look and her small but desperate gesture, I would have retreated my hand completely. I do not want for her to experience the unpleasant sweat on my palm and in some small, nagging part of my brain I am reminded that we should continue with our assignment. When my fingertips are on top of hers I gently press her curled-up fingers down on the table.

For a small moment she slumps her shoulders because she is expecting the end of this little escapade.

But it never comes. Her hand and mine lie on the table but our fingertips are still in contact and brushing up against one another. I shoot her another look.

 _I can only do so much, please be patient with my baby steps._

Her pleading look gives way to a shy and relieved smile as soon as she recognizes that my intention is not to completely let go.

Our work can now continue, albeit at a slower pace. While I can still write with my right hand, my attention is torn between reading, taking notes and occasionally touching my girlfriend's fingertips. There is a palpable disappointment within me whenever she retracts her right hand to jot down some of her observations about the text. However, after doing so she dutifully returns her right hand to the same place just in reach of my fingertips. I am also distracted by a new discovery I make as I learn that the skin of right index finger is a little bit rougher and I rack my brain trying to think of a reason why.

When this whole study session is nearly over as I reach the last page of the relevant chapter it occurs to me that this out-of-place texture on her index finger might be due to her sewing as it would be the most likely place to hold a needle for a right-handed person. Meanwhile she has advanced considerably and is almost finished.

 _Curse you, unfair nature, for not giving men the ability to multitask!_

With our workload done for the day we must increase the distance between us and clean the place up. Before she rises from her sitting position, Kawasaki stretches her arms which does curious things to her upper torso although like the gentleman I am I only look in her direction in order to check up on her and see how exhausted she is.

 _Yep, I swear!_

This would be the place where the story should end in a light novel or one of my sister's shoujo mangas. Or perhaps we stumble and land in a compromising position on top of each other and I redouble my efforts to steer clear of any situation for this kind of stupid romantic comedy development.

Fiction exists to escape reality and to encapsulate what is most precious, desired or tragic. Rarely do stories concern themselves with the ordinariness of everyday life because that would be boring.

Consequently, we have to clean up as unexciting as that may be.

Standing up, I reach for my glass of juice. I gulp down its contents and move to the kitchen where the sink is.

"Ah, I'll help with that."

Kawasaki says while she is still trying to bring order to her belongings.

* * *

I am already at the sink when she joins me with her empty glass in hand.

"Move over."

Because I had no intention of cleaning the glasses and would have just left them in the sink for my mother or sister to take care of I oblige her gladly. With practiced motions she quickly cleans the first glass and hands it to me for the purpose of toweling it.

I do not really mind since it would not behoove me as host to put no effort into taking care of some minor task in front of my guest.

While I dry the glass in my hand I strike up a pointless conversation.

"Did you get so fast with cleaning glasses because of that job at the bar?"

"Huh, I guess so."

She mumbles distractedly as she finishes cleaning the other glass and proceeds to dry it off with another towel.

"Come to think of it, would that job not require you to know about alcoholic drinks?"

She turns to me with a bemused expression.

"Why do ya wanna know? Are you looking to get shit-faced?"

 _What outrageous nonsense, woman! Your boyfriend is just curious how you acquired your skills in order to become a better house-husband._

"That's not the case, I just want to know how you got the job."

"Good to hear and for the record, I would not make you any drinks because I am afraid of all the stupid things you would say while sloshed."

 _Ouch, that hurt._

A self-deprecating smile washes across my lips because she is right for all the wrong reasons. I totally fear that my past middle-school persona might surface when I am not on my guard.

Seeing that look on my face she offers no apology as none is really needed between us and we are not the best people for making apologies in the first place. Without missing a beat she begins to answer my original question.

"I did learn a good deal from magazines and I practiced at home."

"You mixed alcoholic drinks at home?"

I ask incredulously with a raised eyebrow.

"Not really, it was more about guessing the right amount in a glass or bottle. And I convinced my mom to show me how to mix some fruity drinks for my father and her because even if I did not get the job I could use the experience to remind them of some past vacation they had at some beach resort."

She explains nonchalantly.

That was pretty sneaky but also ultimately very well-intentioned of her.

 _Should I be worried?_

There is another question on my mind

"Did that job pay well?"

Satisfied with the cleanliness of the glass in her hand, she sets it down and motions for me to hand her the one currently still in my hand. She inspects the glass closely and finds it wanting.

Once again she begins to towel a glass absentmindedly that is in her hands. She leans against the kitchen top as she tries to recall the details.

"Okay, I gotta say."

She shrugs her shoulders.

"The late-night-boni were the thing that made the working hours worthwhile."

Then her eyes focus on me and a mirthful smile adorns her lips.

"Not that you would know about those, ya lazy bum."

 _I prefer 'energy-conservationist', thank you very much._

Her eyes turn more wistful.

"But it wasn't like I was really on my best behavior as an employee."

Suddenly the tone of her voice acquires a note of bitternes.

"Especially on that day."

When she is referring to 'that day', she must mean the evening the Service Club showed up at the Angel Ladder Bar and tried to reason with her because of her brother's request. It all descended into a confrontation between Yukinoshita and her and I had to find a solution on my own.

At that point it was one of the few requests where I did solve the problem to the satisfaction of all people involved.

"It was not like I was the most suitable guest for such a high-class establishment either."

She chuckles softly at that.

"I could see that. You were visibly afraid of the prices and your whole body language practically screamed that you wanted to be elsewhere."

 _Gee thanks, but that compliment for my outfit should be better directed at my father who owned those clothes and my sister who chose them for me to wear that evening._

"Be fair to me, the prices were outrageous."

Her mouth loses some of its smile and her eyes turn a little harder.

"Not for all of us." She mutters darkly. "Your companions could afford them."

"That was partly the case because Yukinoshita paid for Yuigahama."

I try to defend at least one of my fellow club members.

She clicks her tongue in irritation

"They still left ya in the dirt."

 _Show some mercy, woman! I am thankful that you are concerned for your boyfriend but Yukinoshita is still the president of the Service Club and holding a grudge for my sake would be pointless._

"They did not think how that looked to the other patrons."

Now I was curious.

"How did it look, then?"

She finally releases the glass that must have never sparkled so much since its creation and sets it down.

"Like someone whose date just deserted him."

"We got that sometimes."

She sighs.

"Some guy tries to impress their companion with the locale but that did not always cover up their shitty personality or intentions."

"Not that women are all that better, mind you. Sometimes you could see some vain gold diggers trying to gauge how rich their date was by bringing them there."

She looks me in the eye and I find myself under an inspection I did not see coming.

"Your case looked like the latter. Like some sad loser who engaged in enjo-kōsai [5] was brought by some vapid girls to an expensive place and got deserted when it became too obvious that he was uncomfortable after perusing the menu and a short conversation with an employee."

 _Critical Hit! That was exceedingly and needlessly harsh towards me and although I am slightly grateful that you are an equal-opportunity person when it comes to dishing out hurt by accentuating the negative in my club mates, but please stop or I will begin to cry at this rate!_

I need to defuse the situation because her poor choice of words paints this memory in a far more sinister light than it really was.

"We had other intentions at heart."

Her frustrated look loses some of its sharpness and she scratches her nose.

"You three made that clear to me but that is how it looked on the outside."

"You were obviously uncomfortable while they were dressed like eye candy and eventually they left you to rot or follow them like an obedient dog."

She sums up to give her case more weight.

This conversation topic has taken a dark turn and all because of me and my questions. I have to find a way to take the edge off of her description and shift the mood.

 _Is this how Hayama feels all the time?_

I begin to deflect her focus from a pointless general observation that we cannot even be sure about to a specific one

"Okay, they were dressed to the nines but like you correctly noted I was more concerned about the prices. I wholeheartedly expected to be able to keep the glass with that kind of bill attached to it."

She smiles slightly in response to that stupid joke, even though the frustration does not leave her eyes. However, emboldened by that small sign I press onwards.

"And I would not even dispute that Yuigahama and Yukinoshita were objectively pretty that evening."

 _What I am attempting is a dangerous move but it can pay off tremendously if it succeeds._

Before she can react I continue.

"There are objective cultural norms to prettiness. Nearly all people find flowers pretty or there are certain works of art that are just universally liked within a certain culture. The same holds true for women - certain features are appreciated by many people at a certain point in time. Take the practice of ohaguro [6], for example."

She seems unconvinced and uncertain where I am going with this.

 _I need to get to the point!_

"Yet they say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. That beholder as a singular person becomes the judge of what is really important to him and just not appreciated by many. Beauty thus holds objectively more meaning, albeit at a more subjective level. Just like Saitō Ryokuu [7] once said 'elegance is frigid' but I propose the corollary that elegance is not necessarily the equivalent of beauty."

I stop and gaze directly in her eyes in the hope that she has understood the meaning behind my words. At the very least I want her to appreciate the jab at Yukinoshita's expense I took with that quote.

The response is overwhelmingly positive. The moment she has fully processed my words there is no trace of the heavy subjects from before and her expression is fixed to a disbelieving, wide smile. Her cheeks are adorned with the darkest shade of red I have probably ever seen on a human face and that color stands in remarkable contrast to her light hair but is nevertheless very pleasing on the eyes. She abruptly turns away from me and hides her face behind her hands.

Not wanting to put her under further pressure and to hide my own embarrassment for staring at her face I look away from her as well.

After a moment she turns sideways and peers at me from behind her hands that are still obscuring her face.

"Ah, you're such an idiot when you ramble like this."

Underneath her hands she is still smiling so I take it as a compliment and count it as a successful diversion.

"You're also ... , from my perspective ... , not that ba ... , I mean, you're an okay guy."

 _Huh, what brought that on?_

I tilt my head to signal my confusion but she refuses to elaborate and tries her damndest to hide her face from me.

 _I am your boyfriend, missy. Calling me 'okay' is not exactly the highest praise I could expect and what are you referring to exactly?_

To be honest, the praise for the historical allusions should go to Zaimokuza who once ambushed me to recount all the advantages of marrying a voice actress to me for what felt like an hour. The only good idea he had was that a cute voice lasted longer than a perfectly youthful body.

 _Heh, sometimes even he can say something cool. I should show some gratitude the next time I meet him. Seeing as that sweaty chuuni already reminds me too much of my middle-school-self and since I want to simultaneously pat that past version of me on the shoulder and knee him in the groin I hereby vow to pat Zaimokuza's shoulder before and after I, most likely verbally, knee him in the groin._

Both of us remain standing in silence in the kitchen for a short while to cool our cheeks down.

A glance at the digital clock on our microwave reminds me of something.

"Did you not want to go home early today because of your brother?"

She turns in the direction of the clock to follow my gaze and recollects her thoughts as her arms fall to her sides.

"Why, today Taishi is not ..."

She stomps with her foot as she remembers what she told me before she came here. Her mother wanted her to watch her other brother in the evening so she could fulfill some other arrangements or something like that.

 _There is some curse on her family, I am sure of it. I can for the life of me not remember her other brother's name. Kawasaki Ninja? Kawasaki Voyager? Kawasaki Explorer [8]? Is this the reason why Japan's birthrate is declining? Are there no viable names left for our youth so we must resort to this nonsense?_

"Damn, I have to go now if I wanna get home in time."

She walks out of the kitchen at a very brisk pace her ponytail just a blur behind her.

When I arrive at the kotatsu she is already finished with packing her belongings into her bag and walks past me to our door.

I wait wordlessly at the entrance while she puts her shoes on. She faces me with an expression that is still a little bit flushed.

She mumbles.

"So, uh, yeah, that was nice."

That is true, we finished our homework and avoided anything that would have been largely unsettling. I would agree to count that as 'nice'.

"Ah, do not eat all the leftover snacks all at once when I am gone."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

I respond wryly as I make a shooing motion with my hands.

She pouts at that.

"I am serious because I know how easy you give in to temptation and I want you to stay healthy."

I cannot help but smile a little cruelly in response.

"Then it would be only fair of me to ask you not to smoke on your way home."

The returning glance in my direction is a little irritated but she ultimately relents.

"Fine, I won't have the time to do so anyway."

Her eyes linger on me and she seems unsure what to say next.

I decide to send her off with what has become our trademark goodbye.

"I did not dislike today."

She smiles in reciprocation.

"Me too."

I wave as she closes the door behind her.

 _Well, if the bowl of snacks on the kotatsu is off-limits, I wonder if I could exchange them for some sweets from Komachi's stash and eat those instead._

* * *

[1] This is a relatively unique Japanese notion of aesthetics that finds value in modesty, imperfection and incompleteness. "Wabi" also originally referred to the loneliness and tranquility found while living in nature.

[2] This period specifically denotes the final phase of the Warring States era (Sengoku Jidai) when Oda Nobunaga, Hideyoshi and Ieyasu unified the fractured clans of Japan.

[3] In the US prison population among certain gangs a teardrop tattoo below the eye is often a sign that the bearer of said mark has killed another person. I doubt the same is true for Japan but for the sake of humor I thought it appropriate and plead cultural osmosis for this one.

[4] Neon Genesis Evangelion reference. These words could be quite aptly called the mantra of the main character of Neon Genesis Evangelion, Shinji Ikari.

[5] This is Japanese for 'compensated dating' and it is sadly not an uncommon practice among teenage girls in Japan.

[6] This is the practice of blackening one's teeth and was once considered beautiful among Japanese women in the Meiji period (1868-1912 AD).

[7] Saitō Ryokuu wrote well-known aphorisms such as the one used here during the aforementioned Meiji period.

[8] As of the publishing date of this story we do not know the name of the fourth Kawasaki sibling. The names I have used here are all names for different models of Kawasaki motorcycles.

 **Author's Note:**  
So yeah, that's it. I do not mind if you find this boring, dear reader. The subject matter and my depiction is as mundane as the majority of life and not as exciting as many other stories in this fandom. Still, I would appreciate feedback as to what could be done better and what worked. Because of my status as a non-native speaker I would also like to be corrected on any mistakes that make reading this story easier. I generally tried to avoid the overreliance on Saki's family and the running joke associated with her name for the most part. Furthermore, I wanted to mention a lot of other characters in a natural way and not make these two appear isolated in their own little bubble as a couple. Do not hesitate to tell me how forced or OOC that all was. For the record, I do not think there are any real hard feelings between the girls, just remember how bad and clumsy she is when speaking her mind.

I won't make any promises regarding more chapters, although I have some ideas what could be shown in a second installment. I will have to see if these ideas pan out into a story of adequate length with satisfactory style and content.

Oh, and before a review says it I will do so myself: Hachi x sweet stuff = OTP.

EDIT:

Changed the parts about tipping to late-night-boni, thanks to Rear Mirrors, who correctly noted that tipping is considered impolite and is consequently very uncommon in Japan.


	2. Step: 47,298

Standard Disclaimer: I don't own Oregairu and I do not make money publishing this story.

* * *

 **A Journey Of A Thousand Miles**

* * *

"So, you really got yourself a boyfriend?"

I nod.

"You sure?"

I can't help myself but roll my eyes at that, despite my blushing face.

 _Do I look untrustworthy or gullible?_

"Seriously, Ebina, cut that out!" I growl in order to cover up my embarrassment .

She just smiles serenely at that, seemingly unaffected by my unintended intimidation tactic. Somehow she acquired a sixth sense for avoiding any escalation between us. It puts me at ease to know she recognizes boundaries she shouldn't cross but the way she always tries to push onto their very limits unnerves me.

"Sorry, I believe you but it was such an unexpected thing of you to say."

That much is true and consequently my glare relaxes and I can feel the blush leaving my cheeks.

"Also, didn't I tell you to call me Hina-chan?"

That is also true, she told me time and again and now I feel very apologetic. _Talk about a role-reversal._

Hina Ebina is perhaps the only person I would call a friend. It started out very innocently during the preparation for the cultural festival when I was more or less forced to help out with the costumes for a show.

At first I was not so keen on the idea but it felt nice being needed and involved in something more creative than mending the clothes of my siblings or tailoring my old clothes for Kei-chan to fit into. I would have thought that this talent of mine would have been forgotten after the festival but Ebina kept coming back desiring to discuss outfits and styles with me. Usually the topic focused on some fictional character she wanted to see in dressed in a different way. Sometimes she even brought a catalogue for men's wear to serve as a basis for discussion. Rarely, we would do something together after school. At first we went to arts and crafts stores in order to talk about different types of fabric or home-made accessories but we soon just met up to converse about whatever came to mind.

Today was such a rare but welcome occasion.

"Anyway, that certainly changes today's mood." She proclaims while vigorously nodding her head.

"Let's go to a cafe, my treat."

 _Who would say no to that?_

"Sure."

"But Saki-Saki has to tell me everything about her boyfriend in return."

That will be a problem, however. I just wanted her to know but I did not prepare for a complete retelling of the story about how Hikigaya became my boyfriend. _Why is it that relaying the pure information is not enough? It is at times like these that I despair at my lacking communication abilities._

As I am being led to a nearby cafe, I try to bring my jumbled thoughts in order. Should I begin with our meeting on the school's rooftop or with his 'confession' during the school festival or maybe with something that happened after that?

* * *

Shortly before Valentine's Day I was approached by my cute younger brother who wanted my assistance in studying for his entrance exam for Sobu High. What I did not expect was that the study group included one sour-looking classmate of mine and his little sister.

True to my expectations, a home that housed someone like Hikigaya had no orange roof [1] and in retrospect I was surprised to know how well my brother knew the way.

 _Is that why you sometimes come late home from school, Taishi? Are you following this guy's sister? Your Nee-san is just a little worried about you and the people you spend your time with._

After Taishi rang the doorbell, Hikigaya opened the door to us with the look of a man who was ready to disembowel himself.

"Ah, ... Kawasaki, I can see you brought ... everything." He said his eyes fixated on me while ignoring my brother who was right in front of him.

"Hey, I am also here, Onii-san."

"Don't call me that!"

Although it was nice to be recognized first, the tone which was directed at my brother bothered me. Before I could voice my anger at this overall lackluster welcome, a voice from inside the house called out to Hikigaya.

"Onii-chan, I just told you to be polite."

The teenage boy this was addressed to just sighed deeply, stepped aside and motioned for us to enter.

"Please come inside, I would not want for you to catch a cold, Kawasaki-san." He said half-heartedly while keeping his eyes on me.

 _What's up with this? It could almost serve as a really pleasant greeting if he would put some more effort into it. Wait a moment - aren't you still ignoring my brother in order to be mean to him, you jerk?_

The inside was surprisingly clean, maybe there was something to my classmate's wish to become a house-husband if he was responsible for most of the duties at home.

 _That would explain why he is so lazy at school all the time._

We were all seated around the kotatsu in order to maximize our strengths. Hikigaya sat next to Taishi on one end and I sat together with his little sister on the other. I would try my best to teach her about science although I was not really exceptional in that regard and Hikigaya would put his language skills to use on my brother's worksheets whenever he encountered a problem. Or that was the theory behind it all at least.

In reality, Hikigaya just pulled out a mobile gaming console and left my brother mostly to fend for himself and only occasionally glanced in his direction. Meanwhile, I was assailed by the bundle of energy that masqueraded as his sister or 'Komachi-chan' as she wanted to be called.

I had encountered his little sister before. During these times she commanded the attention of her brother and in her own home this habit was only exacerbated. I think I could understand Hikigaya a little bit better, he may be this confusing mix between a considerate side and jerk-like behavior but his usually quiet demeanor was absolute bliss compared to his sibling who was this pure attention hog. The males on their side of the table would work silently and although Taishi had some moments when he got stuck, Hikigaya usually intervened with some very curt tips on how to proceed.

Meanwhile, I was saddled with a younger girl who constantly wanted me to check on her spelling and always tried to make a discussion about what I advice I had to give when she could have just taken a look inside her textbook and verified my words.

As a result I grew more and more annoyed with her and my patience wore thin rapidly.

On top of that she started to intersperse questions about her study material with personal ones.

"Ne, Saki-san?"

A nod was all the reply I could muster. Seeing this as some sort of grand invitation, I was greeted with a big smile.

"Do you have plans for Valentine's Day?"

Actually, I had plans.

 _Why would she want to know?_

I figured that the sooner I would answer the quicker we would get back to the work at hand.

"Eh, I am gonna visit a shrine."

A happy chortle escaped from the girl next to me.

"Having a plan to spend the day sounds wonderful and totally unlike other people Komachi knows."

She shot a dirty look in the direction of her brother who was completely unfazed, seemingly used to this kind of treatment. Almost immediately she redirected her attention back to me.

"Are you by any chance praying together with your boyfriend to reaffirm your love? That sounds totally sweet."

 _Huh?_

 _Where did that come from?_

Opposite to us Hikigaya lowered his gaming console and arched a curious eyebrow at me and even seemed a little perplexed at the notion while my brother looked just as nonplussed as I felt.

There are moments when you totally understand that idiom about wanting to climb under a rock and wishing to die.

 _Why did this have to happen under these circumstances? Not in front of these two boys, please!_

I could feel my cheeks heat up as I frantically tried to explain myself.

"No, uh ... , you see, it's the day of the entrance exam as well and ... uh, I'm gonna pray for my brother's success."

"Oh, ... I see." was the warm and almost motherly attempt of a reply that came from Komachi.

 _Wait a minute, did I miss something here?_

My brother looked grateful but also slightly sheepish while Hikigaya nodded sagely and muttered something about 'a lot of points' but also gave me a pitiful glance before he resumed playing.

 _Uh, what?_

I get it, a single girl going to a shrine on Valentine's Day is probably someone very unlucky in love and is going to receive pitiful looks from all the surrounding couples who gather at these shrines to celebrate their love.

 _Not that I care, I am not like these types, I don't have my head in the clouds and fool around._

Well, at least, it shut Komachi up for a little while although she soon began to grow restless once more but thankfully did not want to mortify me any further. Too bad that she had other targets around her to annoy.

The continuous fidgeting would have been acceptable if she did not start to pester her brother and Taishi and subsequently broke their concentration. Not satisfied with me, who had clamped up due to embarrassment, she started to simultaneously pull on my sleeve, push a worksheet towards Taishi for him to check and talk to her brother about another problem.

This nosy brat could just not sit still and be quiet. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see her dark hair moving with every movement of her head. She even appeared to enjoy the situation in general.

Ever so slightly just the tone of her voice began to aggravate me.

I inhaled deeply, ready to prepare myself for getting angry.

"Kawasaki-san!"

Hikigaya suddenly said a little too loudly, startling me and Komachi, while looking pointedly at the space between her and me. Both Taishi and I turned our eyes on him but to my surprise he turned his head towards his study partner and continued in a voice louder than he had used for his previous conversations with my brother.

"Do you know what a pleonasm is?"

"Um ... , sorry, I don't, Onii-san."

Despite his earlier outrage at being addressed that way, Hikigaya just kept going.

"It is a rhetorical device like an oxymoron."

My brother's eyes lit up "I know that one - a 'stupid genius' is an oxymoron, right?"

Hikigaya's lips curled into a humorless smile as he answered.

"Correct. An oxymoron is something that deals with contradictions whereas a pleonasm deals with redundancy."

Having said that, the self-professed future househusband turned back towards the little space between Komachi and me.

"Redundancies like saying 'troublesome women [2]'."

At that moment the small grin he sported had all the inviting charm of a mushroom cloud although I briefly considered throwing something at him. However, for the most part, I was stunned into silence. Komachi's hand that had previously pulled on my sleeve without restraint fell limply to her side.

 _I think I also saw an almost imperceptible nod coming from Taishi. I made a mental note to talk with him about this later - no point in him learning strange life lessons from such an idiot._

"Ah, Onii-chan." was all Komachi had to say, although it was more of a sigh.

After that the atmosphere grew quiet and we continued at an acceptable pace.

* * *

It took Ebina three whole cups of sugary latte macchiato to overcome the shock of me dating Hikigaya but she eventually managed to do it in her own unique fashion by declaring my relationship as 'Saki x Hachi', although I am not sure if she was more concerned with the naming than our actual compatibility.

"It is vitally important that Hikitani is the last name because he is a bottom." She declared as if it was an objective truth.

"Hina-chan, please shut up!"

"See, your aggressiveness is only proving my point."

Usually I cannot interject in her ravings because her passion for these kind of things are not my forte. For example, I lost nearly two nights of sleep over Christmas break when I finally understood why Ebina was so elated when she spotted some boys with candy canes in their mouths and could not stop ranting about it.

"At least use his real name."

She only smiled mischievously in response.

"Why? Are you already thinking about accepting his name after the wedding?"

There was no real word in the Japanese language yet to describe the shade of red my cheeks were sporting.

"D-d-d-d, ... Don't be ridiculous, idiot!"

My bespectacled classmate only smiled serenely which infuriated and embarrassed me even further.

 _How can she be so lighthearted about these topics or am I just too prudish?_

"'Hikitani just sounds like someone I already know, alright?"

 _Sorry, Kiritani-sensei[3]!_

Ebina apologized just as nonchalantly as she joked around.

"Oh, sorry about that, then. It's just a force of habit."

"Anyway, is there going to be a double wedding?"

I shrank back. What gave her that strange idea?

"Huh ... , what ... do you mean?" I asked as I felt the all too familiar sensation of blood rushing to my head.

* * *

I was surprised to learn that our siblings had agreed to another study session for the next day despite the partly charged atmosphere of the last one.

Today we had less time than yesterday and instead of a whole afternoon, we would be studying only for a short while.

Because of these circumstances we did not go to either of our houses but went to a family restaurant.

Hikigaya made the actually quite sensible suggestion that both our siblings should ride with us on our bikes in order to save some time. The two middleschoolers and Komachi in particular disagreed vehemently and instead chose to walk to the restaurant when we met up.

That left Hikigaya and me pushing our bikes and staring at the backs of our siblings while they strolled to our destination.

We could have gone the whole way in content silence but something irked me and at first I could not quite put my finger on it. Whenever my grumpy eyes left my sibling's back I was greeted with apprehensive and compassionate stares from fellow pedestrians.

At first I thought they looked at my dark-haired classmate because due to the narrow sidewalk he was quite close and I knew he elicited this reaction from time to time but after a while I thought I accidentally made eye contact with someone who looked specifically at me.

There was a nearly universal factor in all the people giving us these looks - they were mostly young couples enjoying the mild winter atmosphere before Valentine's Day. Another major demographic were hopeful girls hyping their chocolate-making skills in front of friends and aiming for big returns on White Day.

To them a boy and a girl wearing matching school uniforms with slumped shoulders and pissed off faces must have looked like ...

 _We must have looked like the most unhappy couple on the streets of Chiba at that moment!_

No wonder that I felt some pressure since we got off our bikes. Forming a larger group with our siblings was out of the question because the sidewalk would not accommodate us. Likewise increasing my speed to get away from Hikigaya would be rude and exchanging him for Taishi would similarly impolite.

 _Our relationship is clearly not like that, I mean look at that sourly guy. The only times when he is remotely acceptable is when he closes these eyes of his while he thinks or when he relaxes during class. It can only be seen very briefly because he is usually scowling or lying with his head on the table._

 _Not that I look at him in particular, my eyes tend to wander across his place when I decide to longingly look at our classroom's door and it is quite rare to catch him with a relaxed face and closed eyes at school, so it's perfectly normal to get that unusual image stuck in your head._

My only option was to start a conversation with Hikigaya. It would be no good if only I wore a neutral expression, I needed to distract him from our egotistical teenage charges who could have spared us this ordeal if they had just agreed to Hikigaya's idea.

"S-s-s, ... So, what gives? How did your club president let ya off the hook for this?"

He just nodded in Komachi's direction.

"She pleaded with them to give me some free time."

That was not enough. I might have even made this grumpiness worse because I reminded him that he left his weird club behind for this.

"Hey, why don't they teach your sis? Yukinoshita's our school's top student after all."

He clicked his tongue at that and I was afraid that I had only made his mood worse but he adopted a more relaxed tone as he answered.

"I suggested that as well because that way I would have had less burdens to shoulder."

Maybe I should not have expected him to be a decent person for once.

"I think the idea was that my club mates would provide 'too many distractions' for my sister and your brother."

Hm, judging from my experience with his club they sure had a lot of antics and their life was not free of drama between them as I learned before the student council elections. So that part was not without truth.

However, my mind got stuck on the fact that his sister apparently considered Taishi an integral part of her plans to study.

Sure, Yukinoshita and Yuigahama had their weird moments and I can very well imagine that the former would be a demanding teacher in such a situation while the latter would be fairly useless if what Ebina told me about Yuigahama's grades was true.

Maybe I had been too harsh on Komachi, maybe she was just looking out for my brother to get qualified help that would not distract him.

The possibility that I considered with dread was that Komachi thought the service Club's female members would distract Taishi from her.

 _As long as they don't bother anyone, it should not be my concern._

Perhaps this was all my imagination. Glancing at the middleschoolers before us, I couldn't detect any overt attraction between them. Taishi was just as sweet as always so maybe the younger Hikigay sibling just misunderstood the situation because she can't imagine herself being not in the center of attention of her innocent classmate.

I should also not exclude Hikigaya himself from that observation. Normally he was leagues above me when it came to keeping tabs on other people and predicting their behavior. Perhaps he had been ignoring and giving Taishi such a hard time because he wants to appear like an unlikeable elder brother to soften the blow when his sister ultimately rejects my brother.

 _Not that Taishi would get that impression from him, he can be just as stubborn as me when he is presented with an obstacle._

At the end I didn't know if anything of this is true or if yesterday's talk with Komachi and now the stares of other pedestrians just made me imagine things that weren't there.

I sighed.

"Valentine's Day sucks."

 _Crap!_

I could slap myself for that. These words were so idiotic considering that I walking next to the very same guy I just gave some chocolate some days ago and my statement certainly did not totally come out of nowhere. Granted, it was more of a lucky coincidence that the previous, uh, transaction happened but he is also the same guy who once uttered the words 'love ya' to me while bolting away. I might have misheard him at that time or these words could have been a slip of the tongue but I was sure to have hurt his feelings with my words.

For the first time in this conversation Hikigaya's eyes did not stare at our siblings but gave me an inquisitive look.

And here it goes, as soon as he realized what I had said I could only accept my just punishment. I slumped my shoulders even further, bracing myself for whatever reaction I deserved.

Instead he did the unexpected, the corners of his lips curled slightly upwards.

"Not untrue."

 _Huh, how come?_

My disbelieving look must have had encouraged him because he continued sharing his opinion.

"It is an imported holiday that targets people with disposable income but it should be meaningless to our age group."

A slight glimmer in his eyes accompanies a change of tone in his voice.

"Not that your request to the Service Club had not been sensible. Taking advantage of some discount prices and broadening the culinary horizons of your little sister was the most pragmatic approach in that kind of situation. It was totally blown out of proportion with far too many people attending an event who had no business being there."

Slightly overwhelmed, I could only answer with a dumbfounded nod. He seemed almost surprised by that and tentatively continued in an apologetic tone.

"Take a look around us."

At these words Hikigaya's eyes swept across our surroundings and the couples that now looked conspicuously away as if they had not been looking and discretely pointing at us some moments before.

"School life is totally different from reality. All these seemingly happy couples or hopeful wannabes share a bond that immediately disappears when they enter college or have to work."

He sighed, apparently becoming depressed at listening to his own words.

"Take our parents, for example. They work most of the day and see their family and each other only for a few hours at best. The opposite is true for those in school - they have a very similar and regulated schedule. Such physical proximity creates the illusion of emotional proximity, yet this closeness disappears when their schedules change. Most former high school couples break up because they cannot reconcile the hardships of reality with what they experienced in their youth."

With a forlorn glint his eyes once again settled on our siblings blissfully walking and chatting in front of us while we were dragging our feet behind them.

I kind of felt a need deep inside of me to argue against what he had just uttered but I couldn't quite bring myself to do so. Some of his descriptions hit very close to home. One reason I can't stand Miura is because she turns from such a prideful woman into this dove-eyed girl whenever that sparkly bastard deems it fit to give her some attention. Combined with Hikigaya's views her behavior made even less sense and my impression of her seemed to be vindicated by his words.

On the other hand, he might have been talking about our siblings here, you just never knew with Hikigaya and even with just the tiny chance that there might be a spark between Komachi and Taishi the desire to respond came back with a vengeance.

Looking back at the two middleschoolers, I decided to speak my mind.

"Ya never know, some of these things might work out."

He snorted derisively at that.

"Statistically speaking, my point still stands. Most young couples separate after school."

"Alright, genius, it's not probable but at the same time not impossible. If the people involved are reasonable enough and sufficiently dedicated to one another it might work out."

A sigh escaped him but he kept his answer short.

"Granted, but those people are rare and the probability that they find one another at this juncture is pretty low."

An ironic self-deprecating smile adorned his lips.

"Best to prepare for the worst or at least the most common outcome if you are an optimist."

I shrugged.

"It can't be helped [4] then. Do what ya think is best."

He paused at my words and after he whetted his lips, apparently in deep thought, but he eventually answered me.

"Thanks."

Our conversation appeared to be finished and so I was quite surprised when my classmate began anew, seemingly not satisfied with the amount of wisdom he had already imparted to me.

"Maybe I need to rescind parts of my hypothesis."

Keeping his dull eyes firmly ahead he went on.

"Time and schedules are an issue but they are not the only problem for all these rose-eyed schoolchildren. There is also the issue of puberty."

 _Huh, what has that got to do with anything?_

Hikigaya's eyes began to blink rapidly like he was shooing something away.

"Many people during their school years will confess at the drop of a hat without really thinking if the object of their desire is actually interested."

His voice turned morose and his eyebrows furrowed as if he could visualize it right there.

"How infantile to think guts would actually make a difference."

It was unclear to me for whom these words were actually meant but I was not really thinking about that at the time. All I knew was that I needed to object for the sake of people who I couldn't be certain about but might be in love while my eyes were glued to my brother's carefree and bouncing steps.

"I don't think so."

"Really?"

I scratched my head, a little embarrassed at the only analogy I could find.

"See, uh, you know about kitchen appliances?"

He hesitated but eventually gave a small nod. Just as you would expect from someone with such an idiotic dream like becoming a househusband.

"So, like I see it, boys are like gas stoves and girls are like electric stoves."

 _Welp, that sounded a lot smarter in my head._

As a result of my choice of words he appeared to be amused but not in a dismissive way. After some seconds he offered a hint of a smile to no one in particular.

"So you propose that, given enough time, people eventually reach a similar state and that, essentially, straightforward persistence is key?"

In his own way that was probably the closest he was going to accept my idea.

"Yeah, kind of."

"Interesting theorem."

I could not detect any more irony in his voice than what was usual for him and answered accordingly.

"Thanks."

We managed to be alone with our thoughts for the rest of way after this rather exhausting conversation , yet were not as gloomy as before. Somehow I still felt a knot in my stomach when I contemplated his words but we reached our destination before I could fully decipher them.

The study session itself was uneventful and instead of a game console Hikigaya amused himself with a worn out book about some cherry orchard written by a foreign guy. From what little glimpses I could get it looked like the script to a play [5].

* * *

"Have you been to his room already? Is it true that boys leave a total mess behind wherever they go? Did you see his underwear lying around? I bet he wears briefs instead of boxers."

"Ya know, Hina-"

"I take that as a 'no', then."

 _Busted!_

My awkward silence says it all.

What Ebina employs is actually quite a clever conversation tactic and definitely better than what I can do. The only question of interest is actually the first one and the latter questions are only there to make the first one seem less inquisitive and outrageous.

Truth to be told, it is kind of a guilty pleasure but I enjoy getting this much focus a little bit even if I clamp up a lot and I am sure Ebina enjoys the opportunity to run her mouth without having someone like Miura around who silences anything and anyone who is not herself or that blond moron she wants for a boyfriend.

"You sure got the mystery price with that boyfriend of yours."

With a bashful smile remaining on my face, all I can do is shrug.

That's not how I think about him. True, I don't get him at all times but the little passages of time we can share between us are enough. He is just as good a partner in conversation as in silence and we both prefer the latter. Even if we both like these quiet moments for reasons of our own. He is very reliable, dependable and most of all very accommodating despite our very different duties at school and in our homes.

Plus, I can get a very pleasant second-hand sugar rush from his lips due to all that sweet coffee he inhales.

 _Not that I will ever divulge that fact._

"I might have to go home soon but don't think I will let you get off so easily. You don't have any plans tonight, right?"

"Nope."

Ebina cannot hide her disappointment very well.

"What's up with that? Why don't you talk to your boyfriend on the phone for endless hours like any normal girl?"

I scowl in response, since I am a perfectly normal girl. Maybe Ebina needs to reevaluate her standards.

"We text each other regularly."

"Then expect some texts from me tonight as well with a boatload of questions."

If she wants to do that, she can do so but I can just as easily ignore her because I am free to choose to whom to respond to.

As if she could read my mind she answers with a perfectly innocent smile.

"And if you try to evade me, I might have to pester you the whole week during recess and keep you from whatever little trysts you have planned with Hikigaya."

 _Crap, she got me there._

With that horrible vision of a possible future the only sensible response is to agree to her demands.

"Uh, fine, I'll do it."

"You better do. Ah, and don't forget that TV drama I told you about is on tonight, I totally recommend it."

After we say our goodbyes, silence envelops me and the only sound that remains as my companion is the crunching of my shoes on the street as I begin to make my journey towards home.

* * *

The next day marked our very last study session with our siblings and took place at the Hikigaya residence two days before the entrance exam. We agreed that Taishi and Komachi should have the last day to themselves for a little bit of rest and with no possible distractions in order to concentrate on whatever last-minute studying they wanted to do.

For some reason I didn't really sleep that well the night before, probably because I was so worried about my adorable brother's performance. However, it still made me very irritable and consequently my morning routine suffered immensely. I was late to class and for revenge Hiratsuka-sensei kept an eye on me to ensure I would stay awake.

To add to my misfortune during recess I overheard Sagami's clique talking about some weirdo hiding in the school's library always ducking behind bookshelves when people approach and muttering to himself in gibberish.

Too bad, during the colder months I occasionally used said library to catch up on some sleep but I found the idea that some creep could watch me while I was defenseless so disturbing that I had to resort to a different solution. I haven't been good with scary situations ever since I had been very small. Many thunderstorms during my nursery school days caused my bed to be ruined by sweat before I learned to accept the sudden cracks of lighting and the growling thunder as natural phenomena [6].

Although I was initially very reluctant to do so I asked Hikigaya if I could accompany him to his house right after school. Wasting time in the city might have been possible but the slight drizzle outside combined with the slight chill of February would have meant that cafes would be packed. Furthermore, I had no desire to spend my money today on some trivial bullshit to pass the time.

He seemed reluctant to accept that proposal when I talked to him in the school hallway.

"I had plans." He whined.

 _Frankly, I don't give a damn._

Despite my tiredness I summoned my last ounces of reason to make him agree.

"Look, I'll owe you one for this."

That made him pause and consider his options. Maybe I should have not said something like that but at the time I could only blame my sleep-deprived brain for making such careless promises.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in deep thought.

"When you entered the classroom this morning you had an umbrella with you, right?"

 _Woah there, you creeper, are you watching me? Are you the guy in the library people are talking about?_

With practiced ease he ignored my reaction to his suspicious behavior. He sure is used to being eyed with caution.

"There is something you can do for me, then. You see, I did not bring an umbrella today."

 _I am sure this marked the day I suffered my first heart attack._

I could not help it but I had to blush furiously. Was he going to ask me if we could share an umbrella? Such a situation would be even worse than suffering through the throngs of loud couples in the cafes around town. All of a sudden the floor became a very interesting thing to study with my eyes.

 _Ugh, I even shuffled my feet like some awkward schoolgirl._

Thankfully while I was rendered speechless I could only listen whether my fragile heart had restarted its pumping and I was - to my great joy - at least not babbling incoherently. As I was dying on my feet before him Hikigaya fished around in his jacket and produced a wallet. Then he pulled a crumpled 1,000 yen note out of its innards and shoved them in my direction.

 _And with that I suffered my second heart attack. Or it was a jumpstart to combat the first one - either way not a very pleasant experience._

"Oi, Kawasaki? You listening?"

 _Sorry, what? Are you paying me to share my umbrella with me? What kind of girl do you think I am?_

What I had not quite registered at that time was that he had continued to talk to me while I was distracted.

"Sorry, but what do you want me to do with that?" I asked with a considerable amount of frustration laced in my words, ready to lash out if my suspicions were proven true.

He flinched little at my reaction and his eyes showed a second of confusion before he settled into a confused expression.

"I asked you if you could buy some snacks on the way."

 _Oh._

That was completely innocent and I felt stupid to have misunderstood his intentions. Hikigaya is actually a very dependable guy and I tend to forget such details when I am cranky or under pressure.

"Sorry, I was distracted. But yeah, I can do that."

But then I thought about his words and they left me with some questions.

"Wait, why should I buy something? Aren't you coming with me?"

He showed slight hints of annoyance but managed to mask them quite well. Most people would have been fooled but not me.

"I just told you, I have no umbrella with me and if I manage to get ill just before my sister's entrance exam my parents will lock me up in my room because she might catch something from me."

Impressive how crazy and reasonable that actually sounded at the same time. I could just nod tiredly and accept the money.

When the time came for school to end Hikigaya immediately slipped out of the classroom. I think I caught a glimpse of him when he was at mounting his bike in front of the school gate while I was exiting the building.

The weather report had announced more than the mere drizzle this afternoon had to offer. I could have walked through this and would have barely gotten wet. Maybe Hikigaya was just unmanly in this regard and that explained his desire to hide at home with such a stupid career choice. Similarly, I felt slightly miffed that he had not opted to do the gentlemanly thing and walk with me through the slightly chilly February atmosphere. Instead I was used as a simple errand girl like the lowest member in some stupid clique.

My trip took me slightly longer than I had anticipated because I did forego commuting to school by bike this morning. Potentially holding an umbrella and steering a bike through the rain did not sound very appealing when I got up today and noticed how tired I still was.

Still, the gloomy weather and the chill had made me even more irritable as I kept trudging towards my destination.

When I stood in front of the Hikigaya residence I was greeted with a noise that sounded earsplitting and hellish to me but must have been a vacuum cleaner in reality. My first reaction was to shrug and ring the doorbell but before I could bring myself to do so I hesitated with my finger outstretched in mid-air.

 _Why would anyone vacuum right now?_

Despite the cold I began to think. Their house was very clean just before yesterday and at least Hikigaya and his sister looked like they would not live like slobs. Would they clean just to impress their guests? Komachi might be so vain but considering Hikigaya I could barely suppress a little snicker at the thought of him being hung up on appearances.

 _Not with those eyes._

I had almost found the will to announce my presence in front of the door when I remembered one little detail before our very first visit here.

The Hikigayas owned a cat and I was allergic to cats.

My cute little brother had explicitly asked me if that was okay with me. Honestly, his carefulness is so endearing but I can manage a few hairs.

Whoever was on the other side just made sure I would be comfortable, I realized.

Despite the cold I endured the weather for maybe one or two minutes before I finally pressed the button that had so far taunted me with its promise of warmth and rest.

The now faint noise that had wandered off to someplace inside the house died and I could hear movement behind the door. It was likely that the vacuum cleaner had to be brought out of sight first.

After a little while the door was finally opened and I was greeted by the dull eyes of my classmate.

 _So, it was him? Maybe I should teach him sometimes in the future that a good housekeeper usually cleans the entrance first when one expects visitors so that this exact scenario can be avoided._

Still, I think I would have not been so grateful if I had found out he had his little sister clean everything up.

We exchanged an informal greeting and I entered.

As if the courtesies of my host had no bounds today, the kotatsu was already warm and cozy. It must have escaped me how cold it really had been outside because when the warmth enveloped my legs, I never wanted to get up again.

While I was unpacking the snacks from the plastic bag I had been given at the store Hikigaya wordlessly put a mug full of coffee in front of me as he sat down on his end.

He did not object to my purchases and so I handed Hikigaya the receipt and the change I had received.

There was one problem remaining.

"Where are they?"

"Didn't you get the same text message around noon as I did?"

My questioning gaze and furrowed eyebrows prompted him to further explain.

"They had to help their student council with some last minute thing."

I checked my phone and sure there was a message from Taishi that informed me that Komachi and he would run late. Another detail that slipped through the cracks and for which I had only my exhaustion to blame.

Come to think of it, there was something fishy about the whole affair. My brother is not a member of the student council of his school but I knew from previous experience that he helped them out on occasion because 'a friend' was a member. I now suspected that must have meant Komachi.

More importantly, as a result I was now alone with Hikigaya for an unforeseen amount of time.

Lacking any supervision.

Without a task at hand.

Suddenly I was very conscious of the situation I was in. So far today had been a rollercoaster as I was torn between the extremes of exhaustion and manic stress. Now I was a guest in Hikigaya's home and I had no idea what to do with him.

There was no topic I could bring up to start a conversation.

My only option was to deliberately unpack all my necessary equipment very slowly with the occasional ostentatiously slow slurping from the coffee mug and collect my thoughts.

We could talk about school or complain about teachers.

 _That's normal, right?_

The problem was that I had no idea what teachers the boy opposite me really disliked. Running my mouth could be quite counterproductive here. He was bad at science but for me to complain about it would be hypocritical if he is the worse student compared to me.

To raise the issue of his club would have been useless, I had no idea what they do when no one is around and to ask whether he would rather be there at this moment sounded simultaneously woefully pathetic and unnecessarily hostile on my part.

But what about the snacks I bought? Certainly they were worthy to serve as fodder for some meaningless small talk to pass the time. Sweet or salty - the endless debate of taste. Although there was something that bothered me about the way I phrased that.

I have heard that before.

 _Where?_

Ebina said that. I just remembered. The context she used these words for was also something I would rather forget because it involved the boys locker rooms.

There was no way I could now breach that topic without being reminded of this gross memory.

With every synapse firing duds I was left completely blank.

When I looked up to find anything that might have served as a topic, I discovered that Hikigaya had quite elegantly solved my current problem for me. In his hands was the same book as yesterday and he seemed engrossed in its contents.

 _Hooray for antisocial behavior!_

I was not aware that I had been holding my breath but the sigh I wanted to let loose had massive proportions.

The only thing left to do was to relax, take a good deep breath and think about how to kill the time until Komachi and Taishi would arrive.

 _..._

Out of nowhere my eyes were flung open by a terrible commotion. In front of me were still my writing utensils and some textbooks I had used to prepare myself two years ago.

Judging from the voices that came from the entrance our siblings had come. Lifting up my chin and craning my neck to glance at Hikigaya who had not moved an inch I was struck by a sudden pain in my vertebrae and the dryness in my mouth thankfully prevented me from expressing any shock I felt at that.

The amount of pages he had already turned seemed to be much bigger than just a moment ago.

And why was I so drowsy at this time?

Did my arms always feel this sluggish?

Eventually, the only possible conclusion hit me hard.

 _I had been asleep!_

Hastily, I wiped my mouth with the sleeve of my school uniform to hide any traces of drool that might have been there.

Another stroke of luck on this day was that my classmate appeared to be unfazed and only concerned with reading his book.

 _Praise be to your namesake, Hikigaya [7]!_

"I'm home." shouted one unmistakable voice.

And a quieter one followed it.

"Please excuse the intrusion."

I had already risen, albeit stiffly, whereas Hikigaya remained seated.

"Good day Saki-san! Hello, Oniichan! Do you have some space available available under that kotatsu for a poor freezing Komachi?"

"H-h-h-Hello!"

"Yo!"

With a spring in her step I would be envious of on one of my best days Komachi headed straight for the kotatsu and almost dove right under it.

My brother rather shyly rounded the corner that had kept him out of view and was greeted in much the same way although Hikigaya somehow managed to be even less enthusiastic.

With all the needed participants seated around the kotatsu Komachi had warmed herself enough so that she could take a good look at her surroundings and unfortunately that meant me. Apparently intrigued by something she got close enough to inspect my face.

"Hey, are you having an allergic reaction right now? You're kind of red in the face."

Without waiting for my confirmation she began to lightly scold her brother.

"Stupid Onii-chan, Komachi told you to clean up thoroughly before this meeting. Don't you think your little sister didn't notice you cutting corners here and there."

The only reply from across the table was Hikigaya rolling his eyes and I could see this kind of escalating.

"It's, uh nothing." I tried to defuse.

Since Hikigaya's comment on the day before yesterday his sister was apparently determined to get revenge on her brother. Yesterday it was the cold shoulder with her refusal to ride with him on his bike and today this incident would serve her as a pretext for complaining.

"Ehm, he did a fine job, I think."

Komachi patted my arm as one would do with a child that is slow on the uptake. Like she was giving me a signal that I am far too lenient with her brother.

However, support for me came from an hitherto uninvolved party.

"Yeah, I think it looks super clean, Onii-san."

 _Don't ever change, Taishi! See that betrayal etched into Komachi's face? That you can deliver such an obvious faux pas with a straight face right in front of your friend is proof that we are family._

 _On a completely unrelated note, please change, Taishi! Don't end up like your Nee-san!_

Speaking as someone who has to do a lot of chores at home, I may have oversold my classmate's good deed for the day. He was efficient with his cleaning and obviously not a perfectionist but I was okay with that since I forced him to do it in a hurry when I asked to come to his house earlier than what had been originally planned.

While Hikigaya shot me a quick grateful glance the answer to my brother's praise came through clenched teeth.

"Still not my name, you in- ... , incredibly forgetful boy."

I am glad that I am not the only one to stumble over words around here. Maybe Hikigaya was just very unused to being praised.

The study session on this day was nothing special, except for the fact that it was the last one.

Well, Komachi was quiet and likely fuming but that meant only good things for me because she kept her head down and focused on the science problems in front of her. I just hope my pointers on trigonometry helped her remember the difference between sine, cosine and tangent.

The day had been outstandingly lucky for me so far.

And that implied one thing - my streak would soon come to an end.

Along with the setting sun evening approached and it brought a fierce shower with it as another companion. Were it not for their student council business, we would have been able to finish earlier. We even worked past our usual mealtime, although I suspect that ours was earlier due to Kei-chan than the one of the Hikigaya household. I had excused myself at some point to write my mother a text to tell her that we would be coming home late.

At first, I had considered calling her but ultimately decided against it. It was enough that my mother took the latter half of this day off and I feared that if she would put Kei-chan on the phone to assuage any fears about her siblings' whereabouts my heart would melt.

When I heard a soft click I didn't believe my ears at first. The drumming of raindrops and the rustling of paper was enough sound to almost compensate for it.

However, someone else's ears were far more attuned to this house and before I could even turn my head around Komachi was already on her way to the entrance.

We could only sit and listen to what unfolded unseen by us.

"Welcome home, Otou-san!"

All that could be heard in response was something akin to a very low hum.

"Ah, let me help you with your jacket."

Another hum answered her.

 _Hikigaya's father!_

As if I had been stung, I jumped out from under the kotatsu to receive and greet the man of the house.

I have a very bad track record with authority figures and today would probably be no exception. I was tired, hungry and with some consternation I noted that I hadn't worn any good shoes today. He surely must have seen them and pictured his children's guests as slobs.

My socks were also crumpled and my ponytail was as haphazard as ever. I could also swear that I had several crumbs from the snacks I had consumed on my school uniform. My chances for a good impression would be close to nil.

That at least meant it would be business as usual.

Out of the corner of my eyes I could see Taishi and Hikigaya getting up.

In Kyoto I had used Hikigaya's frame for protection in the ghost house. The prospect today seemed to be even more appealing. He stood slightly to my left and I subconsciously inched closer.

Komachi's lively steps were the first to round the corner. She was holding a plastic bag with containers that filled the room with the smell of cheap takeout.

 _No Cooking Papa, then [8]._

Something shuffled behind her and a man came into view.

No doubt that this was his son's father. Over the course of months I had gotten some glimpses at my classmate that revealed he could show different moods depending on the circumstances. Ascertaining Hikigaya's thoughts was like a book with seven seals at the beginning. The man in front of me might be sealed with 108 seals.

Hikigaya senior was just as tall as his son and his posture was just as slumped, his crumpled dark blue business suit made him look a bit wider - more manly. He had a receding hairline that left a great part of his head bald. What remained of his hair was just as dark and dull as that of his son. The feature that made him outwardly indistinguishable from other office workers was a suitcase he held in one hand.

His age could have been anywhere between 40 and 50. The wrinkles around his eyes and the bags under his eyes gave no indication. His mouth was shut tight in a straight line and that seemed to be its natural place.

But just like his son his eyes were the most striking feature. My classmate's eyes could be dull most of the time yet show glimpses of other traits. These eyes I was looking at, while physiognomically similar, showed a lifetime of tiredness. A sheen of wetness made it even hard to see where his small pupils were looking.

There was nothing other than exhaustion that this man was exuding and it was almost suffocating.

It suddenly made a lot more sense for Hikigaya to pursue his crazy career choice if this person was his male role model.

"This is Kawasaki Saki-san, she goes to Sobu and helped me today with my preparation for the entrance exam."

I bowed deeply.

"Good day to you, sir. Thank you for the hospitality your children have shown me." I said stiffly and in the most obviously unnatural manner in what rusted keigo [9] I could muster.

The voice that answered was just as unreadable as its owner's appearance. While deep it did not betray the tiredness that its owner paraded around for all the world to see.

"Pleased to meet you."

My classmate's father's face was focusing only for some seconds on my appearance. I could not tell if silently judging me or if he just recognized my uniform.

He turned towards Taishi and Komachi began introducing him.

"Ah, this is her brother Kawasaki Taishi-kun, he is also trying to get into Sobu."

I might have been mistaken but I think I saw a slight twitch in Hikigaya senior's face.

"Hello, sir. I am your daughter's classmate and over the last days I have been tutored very well by your son."

Facing me I could not really see where the tired office worker had looked before. Standing sideways in front of me his silhouette showed his eyes staring intently with great interest at Taishi.

"My son?"

One eyebrow above unreadable eyes crept slowly upwards and against my expectations it was not accompanied with the sound of a rusty door slowly creaking open. Hikigaya senior seemed like the person who could tell a lifetime's worth of stories with just about any ripple that would break through the surface of his stony expression.

Taishi probably took that as a statement that cast my classmate's ability in doubt

"Your son is really good. He does not immediately give the answer away and makes me think the problem through."

 _Did that really happen or was I just imagining Hikigaya doing almost nothing for the last three days?_

Father and son faced each other.

The latter slowly raised a hand.

"Yo."

All that answered him was an acknowledging hum from his father.

 _No wonder that Komachi is so talkative. These guys can either communicate telepathically or they're practically mute at home._

Komachi was the first to break the silence.

"Otou-san, did you not forget something?"

There. I saw another twitch quickly wash over the old man's face. He shrugged and put his suitcase down in an excruciatingly slow manner before he turned back to Taishi.

"Sorry, boy."

"Sir, my name is -"

Before my brother could finish he was interrupted by our host who raised a hand dismissively.

"Please excuse me, I have a terrible memory for names."

That shut Taishi up. If there is something I can't stand it is my family being mistreated I needed to get out of this stuffy atmosphere.

"We should probably go, Taishi. We were close to our study goals anyway."

I bowed again, this time more sharply.

"Please excuse us."

What I didn't count on was my classmate who had been standing silently beside me.

"What about the rain?" He said pointing out of the window.

Komachi immediately picked up on that.

"Oh, it seemed really cold in the entrance and it is already so dark. Some rainwater may be freezing right now."

Some gears seemed to be turning in the heads of all the present Hikigayas. This was to be expected, they were family, after all.

The first one to raise his voice was the oldest.

"No choice, then?"

Komachi happily answered.

"Doesn't seem that way."

Her father sighed in response.

"No worries Otou-san, I will greet you with a special homemade meal made by your lovely daughter when you're back."

What was going on? I looked helplessly to Hikigaya.

He whispered to me "He is just getting coerced into driving you home."

When my eyes went back to the older male I saw a smile adorn the harsh features of the elder Hikigaya. This combination was almost inconceivable in its contrast with the face he had worn before.

Komachi obviously knew how to sucker her father in.

"Oh, and your takeout can serve as a basis for a bento for you tomorrow."

That expressionless face just melted into a visage of pure bliss but not before some vestigial rational objections could be voiced.

"Do you not think your time is spent better looking into your books?"

Komachi answered with a coquettish giggle.

"It'll be okay, I like cooking for my family."

 _Hook, line and sinker!_

That was all the convincing that needed to be done. Nobody had asked us, but truth to be told, I was glad I was getting a ride home. The sound of the rain outside right now and the cold that I had already experienced in the afternoon had shown me that it would be the better than the alternative.

After all, it would be irresponsible if Taishi would get ill before the entrance exam.

We packed our belongings and said our goodbyes to the siblings who had invited us into their house.

Hikigaya senior waited outside under an umbrella, his tired expression which I began to assume must have been his default face had returned with a vengeance and was only exacerbated with the rain and cold as fitting accompaniment.

He led us to the car but his shuffling feet did not stop at the driver's door but continued to the front passenger's door. He unlocked the door and turned his face expectantly to me.

I would have preferred to sit in the back but I reckoned it would be wise to have another set of eyes on the streets. However, I was still really tired so I didn't know how useful I would truly be.

Like a gentleman he held the door open for me, while he gestured for my brother to unlock the left rear passenger door and sit behind me. Maybe Hikigaya also got some good qualities from his father.

But apparently my seat was the designated female spot in this car, so I couldn't be totally sure if I had been given this spot out of politeness or pure habit. I had plenty of legroom and it was obvious that the seat was slightly elevated because the elder Hikigaya did not seem very tall compared to me when he entered the vehicle.

Another minor hint might have been the CDs that were stuck in the little compartments of the interior door panel on my side. Some labels I even vaguely recognized as some boy bands that I must have heard about on TV.

Despite that the car was basically without any hint of personality were it not for a very worn out CD case lying on the middle console. The writing was so faded that I could barely make it out but it looked like some foreign dude.

I must have been right with this assessment because for the rest of the car ride we were listening to very soft English lyrics [10].

Before we could drive off, however, I gave our hospitable chauffeur our home address so he could type it into some navigational gizmo. I was relieved to see that the displayed map seemed to be accurate and that meant that my duties as impromptu navigator would be greatly reduced.

The ride should have not taken more than ten minutes at the very most in this weather. However, that rough estimate didn't take into account that the streets would be filled with late corporate drones who were rushing to get home.

Someone in front of us hat to have been rushing extra hard because it wasn't long before we were held up by what looked like a traffic accident with some cars in front of us already waiting to pass the little truck that blocked our side of the road. The street was too narrow to go into reverse and some impatient people behind us blocked us from moving back anyway.

It seemed we were stuck until the police sorted out whatever had happened.

Out of habit I looked back only to discover that Taishi was sleeping. I debated whether I should wake him up but he did neither drool nor did his posture leave any smudges on his door's window.

 _What's with our family and falling asleep today?_

Our driver also either did not even notice Taishi or had no objections but I am sure he must have at least seen him because he kept throwing subtle glances into the rear mirror.

In the end I was left alone beside an older man inside a strange car with only the percussion of the rain and almost inaudible music.

Eventually the silence was brought to an end by Hikigaya's father.

"Say, Kawasaki-kun, you seemed to be familiar with my son."

My hands dug deep into whatever material I could find. If only I could crawl deep beneath the earth never to resurface. My treacherous face heated up as I hastily thought about an appropriate answer.

That wasn't exactly a question - that was an observation but nevertheless it demanded an answer just as fervently as an outright question. Hikigaya was my classmate that much was pure and simple but even I knew that mere classmates don't just form a study group.

That's what friends do. Was Hikigaya my friend? Friends are special - people you choose to be close to and who feel the same about you. I didn't have any if I didn't count Ebina who had basically forced her way into my life. Hikigaya never seemed particularly close to anybody. No classmate, not that fat weird friend of his and even his perfect little club president - there was no one he particularly gravitated towards when I was around.

Maybe that is why I felt some link with him. There was no strong attachment for the transitional relationships of youth in him and additionally he was far more mature than his peers. Just like I was. That didn't constitute friendship, however, that was more like camaraderie. As a result I should have correctly called Hikigaya my comrade but I had already spent too much time musing over a good answer that I chose the coward's way out and not waste anyone's time with weird explanations that do not make sense to anyone but me.

"C-c-c, classmate, sir. Your son is my classmate."

I got no acknowledgement from the man beside me. He continued staring straight ahead into the back of the car in front of us.

Just as I began to relax and my knuckles turned from white into a more normal color another question was let loose by the elder Hikigaya.

"Is Ha-ha-haw -"

He interrupted himself because of a hearty yawn while I pressed myself deeper into my seat unable to escape the terror of unwanted questions.

Relentlessly, like the world's most indifferent bloodhound he began anew.

"Is there bullying at Sobu?"

That sounded like a different question than the one you first attempted to ask. You didn't just try to ask whether your son is being bullied at school, right? Sorry to say this but your son is not only the butt of many unfunny jokes but he would also make a good bully himself if he had the chance. I have seen his disregard for fair play when it came to the student council election.

At school if you are clever you're a target, if you're smart you're a target. Not to mention that your son has a talent for attracting the ire of some of the teachers and that his club keeps him involved with the popular crowd instead of laying low.

I wrestled even more to come up with a truthful answer to this. There was not much I could say.

"Ehm, the same as everywhere?" I supplied helplessly.

The elder Hikigaya sighed deeply. I knew that my answers would not give him anything and to further add to my unwillingness to answer hard questions I despaired at how incomprehensible and how tight-lipped I must have seemed to the person who so willingly agreed to drive us home.

He turned to me and although I could not exactly see his pupils his eyes appeared to drill themselves into my skull. It was like being under the scrutiny of an unreadable judge.

To my surprise he spoke plainly.

"I am just a father who is concerned about his daughter."

So this is what it's all about. I barely managed not to show my relief at that revelation.

With only a few lights shining in the car and not that many lights outside all the wrinkles in his face were enlarged by their shadows. Hikigaya senior just seemed like a tired old man right now. He slowly turned away from me.

"As you must have learned by now she is not as bright as my son."

He raised a hand as if to silence any objections but I had none to begin with.

"I did not desire for her to visit the same school as her brother."

His hands on the steering wheel slightly tensed and pressed into the leather.

"In fact, I would have liked for her to visit an all-girls school because there would be less, ah, distractions."

He shrugged his shoulders and his hands relaxed and he eventually continued with the barest tint of amusement in his voice.

"However, my ideas obviously were not the ones that were ultimately embraced. That in itself is not a bad thing. There is that time when young people will have to make their own decisions and live with them."

Slowly his head turned once again to look at me but this time I was prepared.

"Parents can only hope that they have prepared their children enough for that time. It does not even matter if these decisions will turn out well - it matters whether children can learn from their mistakes and become able to grow up on their own. It becomes essentially a question of character."

Despite having met his gaze before I still felt like a deer caught in headlights when I looked into these paradoxical eyes that spoke so much of tiredness yet hinted at a lively brain behind them.

"Wouldn't you agree, Kawasaki-kun? Is making the wrong decision a possible path for character growth? Is it not of value to have come to a decision and to live by it for better or for worse?"

I hoped I had gulped as silently as I imagined it to be but this time my answer came much quicker because what he had said made some sense even if he ultimately was a downer like his son.

"Yes, sir."

He seemed satisfied at that and turned away to keep his eyes on the street in front of us.

"Good."

All in all, the conversation could not have lasted more than a few minutes and soon enough the police had cleared the road of all obstructions and we were free to leave.

When we got closer to our house I mentally prepared myself to wake up Taishi so that he could quickly take all his belongings and exit the car.

However, before I could act Hikigaya senior took the penultimate turn a little too sharply. My head immediately zipped around when I heard a dull thud and an 'Ouch.' behind me.

I turned so fast that I could not be sure to have caught a glimpse of our driver looking into the rear mirror and smiling because my bangs also whipped around and would have hit me in the eye if I had not closed them.

Taishi was rubbing his head but seemed okay otherwise.

Without me saying anything he realized that we would be home soon and grabbed his bag and his umbrella.

When we stopped in front of our house I was relieved to see that Kei-chan had not left any brightly colored plastic toys outside that might have given off a false impression of our cleanliness.

Just like the reverse of our departure the elder Hikigaya stepped out of the vehicle first and held his umbrella above my head when he opened the car door for me.

My brother and I bowed deeply to show our gratitude.

"Thank you so much, sir." we said in unison.

Wearing his tired expression like a familiar coat the head of the Hikigaya household just gave us his indifferent face to look at.

"Goodbye and good luck, Kawasaki-kun."

He turned around and made a step towards his car but hesitated to make another. He turned around again and nodded towards my brother.

"Good luck, boy."

Then he drove off and we were welcomed by the warmth of our home and could bask in the lingering smell of the delicious food our mother had prepared.

Later that evening I fell into my bed feeling totally exhausted having been drained mentally and physically by the preceding days. No force on earth could compel me to fight the urge to sleep.

* * *

~~You enjoying the TV drama?~~

-Dunno Ebina, it drags on and on and no one can just spit it out.-

~~Apropos, who confessed?~~

-What're ya yapping about? These characters are absolutely not in love.-

~~Not them, silly. You and Hikitani.~~

~~Hello?~~

~~Hey Saki-Saki, I know you're reading this.~~

~~Answer me, or I will hound you for two whole weeks during recess.~~

~~Please?~~

~~Okay, no stalking but at least tell me you're alive. ( ￣^￣)尸~~

-You're alive.-

~~Har Har. ﾍ(ﾟ∇ﾟﾍ) Very funny!~~

~~That was sarcasm by the way.~~

~~Anyway, spill the beans. Give me the deets, girl!~~

-Short story - I confessed.-

~~Makes sense, Hikitani's just too shy.~~

-Like I've been told once - nothing ventured nothing gained.-

~~But I guess there's more to it and you're not telling. I need more infos!~~

-Would take too long at this hour.-

-Maybe some other time?-

~~So juicy, then?~~

~~Alright, there is this bookstore I wanted to show you anyway.~~

~~But don't expect to get treated like today!~~

-Please, Ebina, no more weird bookstores.-

~~Not every bookstore I know caters to acquired tastes. ( ิ౪ ิ )っ─∈~~

-Deep down there's something wrong with you.-

~~Deep down I know you want to get rid of me to have more time to text Hikitani.~~

~~Cuz I know you can text faster than this.~~

~~Am I right or am I right?~~

-Well, maybe.-

~~What do you guys text about?~~

-Dinner recipes.-

~~I'ma ask again. You really sure you got yourself a boyfriend? (oﾟ□ﾟ)o ~~

* * *

[1] Reference to Orange Yane no Chiisana Ie - a very cute manga about family and love.

[2] This phrase is very commonly associated within the Naruto fandom with the character Nara Shikamaru.

[3] Male protagonist from the fluffy shoujo manga 'Houkoga x Ponytail'. Female protagonist with ponytail and martial arts background - check. Unkempt male protagonist with a manipulative streak but also a very considerate side to him - check. Bonding moments over caring for a small child - check.

[4] You are probably aware of the phrase 'Shō ga nai.' - it represents that very unique brand of everyday fatalism in Japanese culture.

[5] Anton Chekhov's 'The Cherry Orchard' is a rather pessimistic play that deals with the stagnation and downfall of one particular Russian noble family and the upheavals of Russian society at the turn of the 20th century in general.

[6] The term 'sweating' is here perhaps more of an euphemistic term. Compare the usage here to the manga 'Usagi Drop'.

[7] While Hachiman's domain is usually that of a god of war he does not necessarily carry any bad connotations and can also be seen as a general deity of protection which partly explains his remaining popularity (ca. 25,000 shrines throughout Japan are dedicated to him).

[8] 'Cooking Papa' is a long-running manga that primarily features an office worker who is very talented in the culinary arts.

[9] 'Keigo' is Japanese for 'polite language' - it differs a lot from 'normal Japanese' through its vocabulary and even grammar.

[10] Hikigaya's father is listening to the Irish singer and songwriter Gilbert O'Sullivan who experienced a resurgence of popularity in the early 90s in Japan - just right for when the father of our favorite loner was probably around the age his son is now. For two very swinging songs I recommend listening to O'Sullivan's 'Too Much Attention' for the anti-social loner vibe or the ultimate English tsundere song 'I Don't Love You But I Think I Like You'.

 **Author's Note:**

First and foremost, my gratitude goes to TheRedGhillie who gave me some invaluable advice.

So that is basically two chapters worth of content. Sorry that it took over a month. I was so fixated on the idea to write from Kawasaki's perspective and showing her in different moods that I underestimated the workload I was giving myself with this endeavor. On the other hand I gained even more respect for writers like SnowPlow and TheRedGhillie who do it so much better. If this massive chapter had a theme I would go for 'uncertainty' and that is probably also to blame for this conga line of misunderstandings. But ultimately some ambivalence in the dialogue is intended.

Please review and tell me where I failed to characterize Saki properly in your opinion or how the glacial pace made your eyes atrophy. If you feel like it you are also invited to tell me where I even (probably accidentally) did something right. I am very interested in other people's thoughts.

Also please excuse the lack of humor and fluff. I will promise to do better in future installments.

PS: In order to spare you doing the research, a lot of the manga titles Kawasaki references deal with domestic matters and childrearing so they are something she can relate to and serve to characterize her. Furthermore, a lot of the male protagonists in these manga do not fit the usual mold of bishonen guys and are usually dark-haired - but I wonder if that has any relevance for this story?

 **Review responses:**

BentShuriken: To be honest the rating was merely there because Saki alluded to teenage prostitution. But I generally agree - damn teenagers and their lewd handholding! Personally, I blame all the devil-inspired rock music for the downfall of morality. *shakes old-man-walking-stick*

testamentKaiser: There is a point system for boyfriends? Somehow I don't want to know my score.

Toshiro Ricky: We will wait and see where I can find inspiration.

Anon-kun: I wished I could have written you a PM and I hope you are reading this. You are totally right, Saki is never shown to be smoking. I think it has to with appeal. For most teenagers smoking is not a desirable trait. Furthermore, there would be too much overlap with Shizuka. Both are mature and the latter smokes because she has not enough family whereas Saki has (almost) too much family. I ultimately went with Saki smoking because it implies her character has little bit more depth in my opinion.

Loner-kun: Your Saki story was among the very first I read in this section. I am glad I could return some of the joy you instilled in me back when I read your story.


	3. Step: 59,391

Standard Disclaimer: I don't own Oregairu and I do not make money publishing this story.

* * *

 **A Journey Of A Thousand Miles**

* * *

"I want Hikigaya."

Should a feather have connected with the ground right at this point in our clubroom, I am sure all of our eardrums would have collectively shattered.

Our current prospective client, Kawasaki, of whose name I was graciously reminded when Yuigahama had enthusiastically greeted her, was quick to correct her obviously mistaken action of triggering all the wrong kinds of flags.

"I mean, I wanna talk to him in private."

She said, sitting stiffly in front of the table that we use to rest our cups on while keeping her eyes on our club president and general anthropomorphic personification of the icy biome known as 'tundra'.

But just as the flat northern tundra can be home to the spectacular phenomenon called Aurora Borealis there was a glint in the eyes of Yukinoshita.

"If he did something wrong, I am sure we can discuss this openly. There are many punishments I have envisioned for one such as him when the time has come for his wickedness to be revealed."

 _Woah, stop there! If there is someone to whom the phrase 'Cast in the name of God, ye not guilty' is totally fitting then that would be me [1]._

 _Seriously, do you want to start calling me 'louse' next? If there ever was an insect in human disguise then it surely was whatever masqueraded as the sibling of my blue-haired classmate currently situated in front of us._

Our guest seemed to be simultaneously confounded and irritated. Unused as she was to Yukinoshita the latter's comments might have caused her thoughts to become disarrayed.

Contrary to that the experienced Yuigahama offers up an apologetic smile towards her classmate and even to me.

Kawasaki blinks a few times before she regains her train of thought and can provide an answer.

"No, nothing of that sort. I just need to ask him a favor."

As soon as these words leave her mouth she must have realized that it was a foolish act to reveal her intentions so openly. She grimaces and for a short moment her hands ball into two tight fist.

It is quite easy to understand why that was a bad move.

First of all, I do not like doing people favors, if I can avoid it and secondly that destroyed any vestige of intrigue I might have had in regards to her visit to the clubroom. Secondly, this is the Service Club which is all about doing people favors. Singling me out either means only I am in the possession of the skills required or that I am easy to exploit.

Reflecting on my life has taught me that the former was usually unlikely. Consequently, I can only assume that I am an easy target for whatever Kawasaki has planned.

 _Luckily, one of the passive skills of the sufficiently leveled loner is to suppress any sighs that the cruelty of society might cause._

Yuigahama leans forward, curiosity sparkling in her eyes, while Yukinoshita flips her hair back with her hand.

"I fail to see what qualities he has that you would profit from in any way. Furthermore, seeing as the Service Club has a proven record of being of assistance to you, I suggest another course of action first."

"You got a problem with me talking to him?"

As expected of her, Kawasaki only sees the rejection in Yukinoshita's words and interrupts her with her own patented brand of verbal aggression.

Before the atmosphere can be ruined any further, the guardian angel of the club – Yuigahama - intervenes.

"I think she meant that it wouldn't hurt to tell us the favor first, ya know. Then we can still decide if Hikki can do it on his own or if we can help."

She says gesturing at the glaring Yukinoshita who is probably inordinately miffed at being cut off.

 _Thank you, Yuigahama! Your harmonious nature is normally underappreciated but invaluable at times like these._

Kawasaki stops her own glare to answer Yuigahama's reasonable input.

"Sorry, I don't intend on having a group discussion right now."

With a slightly more apologetic tone she adds. "I can't afford to spend the time."

"We can discuss the request among ourselves if you have places to go,"

Kawasaki shakes her head at that and focuses once again on Yukinoshita.

"No, I need an answer quickly and just from him."

 _What's with all the pressure?_

The argument between Yukinoshita and Kawasaki seems to go nowhere. Or, alternatively, you could say that it loops around to its starting point like a Moebius strip. Kawasaki obstinately refuses to divulge what this mysterious favor is and Yukinoshita is too prideful to let the Service Club not be involved in lieu of permitting me to do it on my own.

Well, in a way she is fighting to reduce my workload. On the other hand, she only appears to be doing this because she probably doesn't trust me to fulfill this mysterious favor.

Fed up with the way things are going Yukinoshita finally lashes out.

"With the greatest respect, but maybe you should have taken the time to summarize your request in a way that is more efficient than this tiresome posturing."

Kawasaki is taken aback for a moment at these words. _Have some mercy, Yukinoshita!_

The last thing I want to witness is a repeat of the fight between ice and dry ice. While ice can be shaped into statues of stunning beauty it is furthermore defined by its fragility but ultimately is also known to crack rocks given enough pressure. Meanwhile, dry ice is an altogether different object with the enticing vapors it exudes. In the end both have in common that they burn to the touch.

"I've told you that I don't have the time for this."

My blue-haired classmate wearily eyes the bag in which Yukinoshita slips her books whenever she interrupts her reading to focus her attention on our clients.

"Contrary to others, I have duties elsewhere and can't idle away the time."

Ouch, for a connoisseur of reading that felt like a low blow. Where else do you get to read in this school in peace? Zaimokuza lurks in the library and nowadays all the literature clubs are about aliens, psychics, time travelers and reality warpers or they solve incredibly mundane cases [2]. No one seems capable of picking up a book anymore.

The voice of our school's ice princess audibly hardens.

"This is a respectable club that, need I remind you, has helped you in the past. Either you tell us what you want or I will have to ask you to leave.

"Yukinon, please!"

"Yuigahama-san, I do not take kindly to people belittling what we do here. If that is what Kawasaki-san thinks about this institution I must kindly ask her in my function as the president of this club to vacate our room."

The girl this threat was indirectly addressed to remains remarkably cool, seemingly unfazed by the threats thrown in her direction.

"So that is how it is, then? Because of some position the school arbitrarily handed to you, you're denying a totally normal request that wouldn't inconvenience you a bit?"

My fellow loner scoffs.

"It's either your way or not happening at all. Ya know, for all the noble air you're putting on, you're denying me my ability to choose, my own free will."

Kawasaki cannot possibly know this but beneath the surface and quite visible to Yuihagama and me there is a ripple going through Yukinoshita. The only major outward sign is a slight widening of the eyes. However, it is obvious to us, even given how little we know about the details of her family situation but my classmate obviously struck a nerve with her argument.

To be denied the freedom to exercise your own will is probably one of Yukinoshita's own greatest phobias.

At this moment the president of the Service Club and the girl opposite her seem perfectly still. It might be that they have managed to reach the fabled point of zero Kelvin.

She may be strongly opinionated in many instances, but as expected of a scion of a higher family, Yukinoshita believes people must adhere to a code of values and her sense of justice admirably forces these same standards upon herself.

In a voice that is more akin to a whisper masking whether her tone was meant to be understood as graciousness or an admission of defeat, the dark-haired beauty says her final piece on the matter.

"Take him, do your thing, then return Hikigaya-kun unharmed."

Her words cut through the silence like a knife.

Kawasaki gets up with a serious face and makes a curt bow in Yukinoshita's direction who returns the gesture with a slight inclination of her head.

Neither change their expression.

Yuigahama scoots closer to Yukinoshita, most likely to prepare to comfort her as I stand up.

* * *

I follow Kawasaki into the corridor. She leads me to the hallway that connects the building where the clubroom is to the rest of the school and stops to lean against one of the support columns.

There are several strategies to being a loner in public. Mimicry is a viable one, for example, and another one would be straight invisibility by lowering any notability like I am practicing it. The modus operandi of my fellow loner in front of me is to occupy a clearly visible space as if she wants to announce that she has nothing to hide. Yet simultaneously, she usually sports such a scary glare and posture that allows her to be left alone.

As is customary of this hour, the hallway is completely devoid of students and anyone hypothetically approaching us would be spotted long before any content of our conversation could be overheard.

Somehow, I am very aware of the dryness in my mouth because I still do not know what she wants from me.

 _And why do I detect the faint smell of peppermint? Has the school changed its disinfectant?_

She crosses her arms and sizes me up. The voice that what been full of sharpness mere moments ago returns to its normal drowsy state.

"Don't run away now that I've gone through all the trouble to talk to you."

I try to show some bravado in spite of still being slightly confounded by what took place in the clubroom.

"It would be rude of me not to."

She answers me with a tired nod of acknowledgement. It is obvious that the confrontation with Yukinoshita has drained her to some extent.

Kawasaki takes a short breath before she begins to explain what all this is about.

"I need a babysitter."

 _That is all? Damn sibling-cons making everything about their family._

"Not interested. Besides, your brother should old enough to survive on his own for some time."

 _In fact, I very much fear that he could survive a nuclear explosion like the insect he is resembling._

She rolls her eyes at my reply.

"Not for my brother, smartass. I need someone to watch over Kei-chan."

"Your little sister?"

"Yeah, the nursery school closes early today and tomorrow and I forgot that I had a doctor's appointment scheduled for tomorrow afternoon."

I rub my temples in thought. That explains what she wants and the urgency justifies her desire to avoid a discussion. Still, there are some nagging questions that remain unanswered.

"I take it your brother can't make it?"

Kawasaki shrugs her shoulders.

"Yeah."

 _Someone who cannot be there when his little sister needs him is the worst kind of scum. But considering who we are talking about here, the less presence he has in the life of cute, little sisters the better._

"But why me?"

She looks away in slight embarrassment.

"You, ... you're the only one I know who's got a little sister."

I see, having visited my home during the last-minute studying sessions before Valentine's Day a short while ago, she probably knows that we have adequate facilities to accomodate her sister. Furthermore, I can understand her predicament here. It is not easy to admit that you do not know many people. Even for loners such an act is often a sad display of powerlessness.

"Kei-chan already knows you and, uh, concerning the nursery school staff, you're, well, easy to describe."

 _Ah, so the embarrassment was perhaps only partly caused by her admission but mostly about bordering on calling me ugly? I see that face every morning in the mirror, you know. I can quite vividly imagine the way this description is to the nursery school staff is going - along the lines of 'Hand over my sister to that overly suspicious, creepy guy.'_

There are next to no tears left for me to cry about all the abuse I suffer.

"Will you do it?"

She makes a step towards me sand suddenly my olfactory sense is hit by a wall of peppermint that is coming from her.

One of my tried defenses activates out of habit.

"Did you not plan for the eventuality that I might have something to do tomorrow?"

She stops for a moment and then looks crestfallen as all her prospects for a solution to her problem have come to naught.

I cannot help but feel sorry for a female in need even if she just barged in, caused a commotion and expected me to do her some favors without promising a reward.

 _Come to think of it, that describes the majority of interactions I have with members of the fairer sex._

"Damn, you were my only hope."

What a sad and equally familiar feeling this sentence conveys. My stony heart is moved for a second and I decide to extend a metaphorical hand to a fellow loner before her violet eyes can get any duller.

In reality, I merely sigh and scratch my head.

"Well, I had originally planned to relax tomorrow."

Her face shifts rapidly from surprise to gratitude but eventually settles on annoyance.

"'Relax', you say?"

 _What is up with her and this unspoken accusation?_ Relaxation is an important part of life. Considering what I am subjected to I have earned some peace and quiet from time to time. Furthermore, this is her asking me specifically without the shackles of the Service Club, meaning that as a private person I am within my rights to refuse or even lament the lack of proper incentive to sacrifice my free time.

It is as if the Service Club as an institution breeds entitlement in the people who primarily profit from it. Where in all this is the proper exchange of goods or services? Moving boxes for Isshiki or reading Zaimokuza's crap surely does not make me happy, rather it leaves me tired and cranky.

Luckily for me, my classmate knows a thing or two about the burden of owing people something and she immediately suggests a solution without having received any prior prodding.

"How about I'll cook for you tomorrow? That way you can relax for a bit."

 _Score! I would have also settled for a brief glance at Kawasaki's underwear. However, if I twist her offer right, I can even get something out of Komachi for this because her beloved Onii-chan alleviated her of her household chores for the evening._

She reiterates her suggestion with a little bit more hesitation in her voice.

"I'll cook for you when I come to take Kei-chan home. That okay?"

After several seconds of feigning intense deliberation I give a curt nod.

"That should suffice."

She still looks unsure and I am guessing that it is not entirely due to disbelief about me so easily accepting her request.

Our gazes lock and when she bites her lip but refrains from uttering a single word of what is likely on her mind I decide to give her an opening.

"So, now that business is concluded, do you mind me telling my fellow club members if they ask about this?"

I make a small gesture in the direction of the room we left not long ago.

"N-no, that's okay."

She looks away while a grimace flickers over her features but is soon replaced by her usual seemingly neutral, if a bit grumpy, tiredness.

"Tell them, I'm sorry."

She receives her answer in the form of a nod. I think that apology is not only good for her ease of mind but would also be appreciated by Yukinoshita.

"I just don't, you know, click with her."

Contrary to what she claims, she actually does but in an antagonistic way. Besides her family members she is the only one who has now repeatedly proven that she can make Sobu's ice queen lose her usual cool.

I think on some level Kawasaki gets that but that is no excuse. She has a bad habit of focusing too much on possible confrontations as evidenced in her concerns about marriage when we had her fill out that questionnaire regarding marriage.

These habits get especially bad when family is involved like in this case. However, instead of being sneaky and intercepting Yuigahama and me when we went to the clubroom in order to speak with me, she focused on Yukinoshita.

My only lead is the peppermint aroma emanating from Kawasaki which is probably a way to mask that she had to, well, fumigate some of her fears before voicing her intention in front of Yukinoshita. Whether that was out of a weird desire to go through the proper channels or because Kawasaki did not envision an easier route remains her mystery.

 _Maybe her family hails from Saga prefecture or she has simply read Hagakure [3]._

"The harder an apology can be, the greater it is to make one regardless." I suggest lamely.

 _Oi, oi, how shonen can I get with such a silly line? Apologies are cheap words that ease over a difficult situation. For a loner who is more conscious of the situation that would be easy. Yet, this is Kawasaki we are talking about and her dysfunctional communication abilities are well known to me at this point._

At first my classmate blinks in confusion but after a few seconds she nods in comprehension

Her expression tells me that she understood but now she seems to be mulling over how to accomplish an apology. As I suspected, she is far too quick to focus on possible confrontation and in another fit of generosity on my part I decide to help her.

"I will tell them, do not worry."

She gives me a smile that illuminates her usually passive face.

"Alright."

With a quick glance at her cell phone's clock she adds "Gotta go now. Bye."

"Oi, how will I contact you if there is a problem?"

She has already halfway turned away from me when the question reaches her.

"I'll get your number from my brother's phone and text you tonight, okay?"

While that sounds reasonable because with us loners standing here and fumbling around with our phones Kawasaki would have a hard time getting to her sister in time. It is relieving to hear that she has such a solution at hand because I cannot guarantee that I know my phone's functions well enough to exchange contact information.

I am appalled, however, by the idea that her brother is still in possession of my phone number. And more importantly, how does she know he still has my number?

 _Does she inspect his phone? Damn, brother-con, making us normal concerned citizens, who are just showing the appropriate amount of care for our siblings, look bad!_

After I have bidden her adieu as well, I return to the Service Club. Her retreating figure, signified by her swaying ponytail rounds a corner as I open the door to the clubroom.

* * *

All in all, the Service Club remains a constant.

Only the, to the outsider perhaps imperceptible, distance closed between Yuigahama and Yukinoshita tells a tale of what had transpired here.

They both look fairly relaxed but their expectant looks are a telltale sign of what they wanted me to do and I would oblige them after I will have reclaimed my seat.

"Welcome back, Hikki."

"It's good to have you back, Hikigaya-kun."

I cannot suppress a smirk as I plop down on my chair and wave my hand dismissively.

"Yeah, yeah, I am quite the indispensable person."

Edged on by the tone of my voice Yukinoshita hesitantly begins to smile at me in a way that treads a fine line between haughty and mirthful.

"Do not flatter yourself too much, Hikigaya-kun."

Rising to her unspoken challenge I shrug my shoulders in response.

"Why not? You just more or less implied that I am a valuable member of this club."

Keeping in mind that I get a lot of requests to solve personally from Isshiki and now from Kawasaki that seems certainly to be true.

"I would even go as far and say that I certainly live up to the supposed motto of this club."

The raven-haired beauty slowly shakes her head and sighs.

"You are truly a narcissist, Hikigaya-kun."

"Hah, I deserve some praise for all my ceaseless toil in the name of this club."

Despite all these words that are thrown around Yuigahama cannot suppress a pleased smile as Yukinoshita and I settle into our routine of bickering.

"If the Service Club's ideal is to cultivate the ideal of helping people how to fend for themselves, then I am surely in possession of a green thumb."

The club president once again shakes her head at my words and assumes a tone that would not be amiss when talking to a small child.

"You misunderstand your role, you poor soul. If this school is the soil we have to turn vibrant with life through our hard work, you are merely there for keeping more unpleasant elements at bay, Scarecrowgaya."

 _Well, at least that makes me a decent shinobi [4]._

"Now, wait a minute. You are just deliberately insulting me without provocation."

Yukinoshita looks astounded that I even complain about her hurtful words.

"Oh my, deliberation implies some form of intent whereas I merely stated a fact."

After having been silent and somewhat distracted with her phone, Yuigahama steps in.

"Come on, Yukinon, don't be mean to Hikki!"

 _Have I ever truly expressed how grateful I am for these interventions?_

A sigh answers Yuigahama's request.

"Very well, I will amend my earlier statement then."

Yukinoshita regards me with a small smirk.

"Do you request to not be addressed to in that way?"

A grunt is the only response she will get from me in that regard, because I do not want to grovel in front of her. An ambivalent answer will suffice here, she can take it either way.

Tired of being reduced to a passive observer Yuigahama once again chimes in.

"Is all that farming stuff now over? Total bummer, cuz I just looked it all up."

As if it was some sort of indisputable proof she waved her garishly colored phone around.

What unclear glimpses I could get gave me the impression that she just opened a site that described a farming game. The eligible non-player bachelorettes and bachelors in these games live my dream - mooching off another more successful human being without being expected to do something in return.

Eventually, I tell them what Kawasaki's request was about and also apologize on her behalf for the methods she employed. Yukinoshita non-verbally signals regret at her own poor choice of words.

However, when I have finished, Yuigahama is pouting and the first one to speak up.

"Phooey, I would've liked to help with that. Saki-chan's little sister is a total cutie."

Intrigued, Yukinoshita cocks her head and asks "I agree that Kawasaki-san's sister's being is in congruence to certain standards of cuteness. But why would you want to do that, Yuigahama-san? What would you do with her?".

Yuigahama folds her arms and looks at the ceiling as if in deep thought.

"Dunno, bring her here to the club for the afternoon? I mean, it's always funny here."

Almost like we have a weird synchronicity going on between us Yuikinoshita and I shake our heads.

"That is a terrible idea, Yuigahama-san. A school is not a fun place for a small child. As much as I am loathe to admit, Hikigaya-kun's house probably provides a more decent amount of normalcy, provided he stays far away from it and Kawasaki-san is right that he is the only one with a little sister we know of."

"Yeah, you're right, Yukinon. But I could have asked my mom for help. I am sure, we have a ton of my old stuff lying around. We could've had a blast with that. You know, play dress-up or something."

 _Did Yuigahama just agree that my house is better off with me not in it?_

"Yuigahama-san, I am afraid Kawasaki-san's sister is not a little doll. While your proposal might have been possible or even enjoyable, I am not sure Kawasaki-san knows that your mother is a available for assistance and furthermore I am sure she does not want to be indebted to too many people."

She turns her attention to me.

"Sadly, that left her with one obvious option."

I scoff a little at Yukinoshita's insinuations.

"Please, she will be fine. I am an expert when it comes to little sisters. You could even say I am a connoisseur of little sisters."

Both girls look at me as if I have suddenly become toxic.

Yukinoshita hangs her head in mock dejection.

"I fear the day I will have to repeat all of these statements in front of the police, Hikigaya-kun."

I decide to present my ultimate piece of evidence in my defense.

"You are technically a little sister, Yukinoshita, and I have never done anything to you."

To my great surprise Yukinoshita's cheeks turn a little bit pink at that but before I can be certain of that fact she turns away.

"Please, refrain from incriminating yourself any further. I feel violated having been associated with your fetishes."

She proceeds to burrow herself in her current choice of reading material as if she is making a great show out of how reprehensible she found my appreciation of little sisters.

A comfortable silence descends upon the clubroom.

* * *

I have suffered nothing but ridicule for my dream.

What my peers, teachers, my parents and even my dear sister do not get is that it is not only dream but one accompanied by a well-structured plan, if I can say so myself.

Unlike my environment I suffer few delusions about reality. Neither I do not perceive things as I wish them to be, nor do I have an ideal vision of how the world ought to be. Not excluded among these myriads of things and beings is also my own humble person.

Accepting the uncaring harshness of reality for what it is, is perhaps the greatest step towards maturity one can do.

That is not to say that fatalism is the right strategy for coping with this truth. The greatest strength of man lies not in his instincts but in his intellect and imagination, his penchant for planning for the future has brought him civilization and it will help me to realize my own goals.

In contrast to my age group I will not squander this gift by dreaming about lifelong friendships or concocting a confession that will win me everlasting romance. Instead, I direct my mental faculties towards a future that is both achievable and desirable.

 _Clarity will be my weapon as the blinded falter and die [5]._

Settling into the profession of a househusband requires a set of skills I will have to develop over time and with the plan I have in mind babysitting Kawasaki Keika is practically a gift handed on a silver platter that will enable me to further my own designs.

Since I cannot hope to catch the eye of a woman who is affluent enough to support me solely through the magnificence of my looks, I will have to wait for these women to become older and more impatient. That will lower their standards while I am going to increase my appeal over time.

In a few years I will be in the possession of a college degree and as abhorrent as it might sound I might have even worked for some time. My days as a college student will also allow me to learn a bit more about cooking and cleaning, although I trust that Komachi will do her share to support her brother.

Watching over Keika will allow me to truthfully say that I have experience in caring for smaller children. Add to that my stint in the Chiba village camp and my by then hopefully well-adjusted little sister and I will have a proven record of being a wonderful nurturer.

This foundation should be sound enough to build upon. Hopefully to a big enough degree that allows me to support my push to become a househusband in the face of my future spouse.

Maybe I will add a veneer of regret to leaving my work behind and start to work from home. Ideally, as an author because it is hard to track writing progress today. In the past there was this romantic notion of having a room full of crumpled paper while sitting in front of a typewriter. Nowadays you can simply leave a text document open and tell your spouse that you deleted several thousand words because you were unsatisfied with them, although, in truth, you only used the computer to browse the web.

As I know from previous research light novel authors make quite the respectable sum of money and the process is not exactly difficult - appeal to the lowest common denominator. Since the major selling point for most popular media is escapism there needs to be a fantastical element. Never forget to include magic or advanced vaguely explained technology.

Choose high school as the setting to provide maximum escapism for hyper-imaginative but clueless teens and bored adults longing for their glory days. The main character needs to be heroic but bland enough for everyone to project themselves onto.

The next thing would then be to add a character roster of stereotypes and never skimp on fanservice concerning the female characters and idiotic romantic situations for the virginal readers. However, keep it titillating enough for frigid older people.

I amuse myself with these observations while the staff at the nursery school try to ascertain if my story checks out. They are looking at a piece of paper that probably contains whatever instructions Kawasaki gave them.

To my great disappointment I could not read its contents from this distance but I would have liked to know how she tried to describe me.

Like she asked me on the day before in her text message, I am still wearing my Sobu school uniform and as could be expected my whole appearance has been thoroughly, if discreetly, inspected by the staff.

At first, when I looked at my phone last night I did not immediately answer the suspicious text that simply read 'You free to talk?'.

Logically, I responded with the question to ask who this was but the response was just 'It's me, you blockhead.'.

If Zaimokuza's ramblings are to be believed, then there are certain programs or 'bots' that emulate human chat partners but are ultimately a scam. Something tells me that he had several previous encounters with such algorithms in his ventures into the depths of the endless, electronic aether that is the internet. Normally, it should be assumed that these programs try to emulate friendliness to lure people in, yet I could not shake the impression that this might have been a program specifically developed for unhealthy masochists.

 _It is truly wonderful and frightening at the same time how far technology has brought us._

It did not help that Kawasaki then simply reiterated her first message two or three times over the course of the evening giving me the impression of a record stuck on a loop but she eventually contacted my little sister and we could get going with formulating a plan.

Afterwards when I added her to my contacts I debated a little while with myself whether I should name her 'Kurosaki' in honor of our first one-on-one encounter, but given that I did not have a death wish I ultimately refrained from doing so [6].

The final proof of my identity is when Keika is brought before me and recognizes me.

Not only that but she bolts towards me with an ecstatic cry on her lips.

"Haa-chan is here."

It never fails to perplex me that this child has somehow imprinted on me and can recall my identity when we have had so few chances to interact with one another. Perhaps I am just that good with kids and truly predestined to be a househusband.

I kneel down to face her directly and to keep her from having to crane up her neck in painful manner.

"Hello Keika-chan, are you ready for an entire afternoon with me?"

She nods vigorously at that announcement but toddles back behind a corner only to emerge with a piece of paper in her hands. She puffs up her cheeks as she holds it towards me with an expectant shine in her little round eyes.

"Keika made this for you."

I am overwhelmed by the gesture. Do not get me wrong, the drawing is more abstract than my usual tastes allow for but I appreciate the earnest nature of this little walking bundle of joy before me.

While I am at a loss for words, she hastily adds an explanation and scrunches up her face.

"Saa-chan said to be good to Haa-chan. Is it good?"

It is perfect and I cannot help but say so.

 _This is like a glimpse at the holy grail of little sisters._

"I really like it."

She squeals in delight and despite my better judgment I extend a hand to pat her head. To my great surprise she readily accepts me ruffling her hair and no one is calling the police to apprehend me for touching a minor.

 _All those accusations thrown my way are probably going to my head._

Not long after that we begin the journey towards the Hikigaya family domicile.

Little sisters are curious and wonderful creatures. There are little sisters and little sisters with an emphasis on the first half of the description. The latter type is more defined by the age gap while the former can be identified through their mannerisms.

Come to think of it, the most prominent depictions of little sisters fall squarely into the first category. My own little sister is relatively close to my own age. She has made similar experiences and we have the dubious honor of being in the same generation. She can take care of herself for the most part and in the few moments when she is not behaving like a brat she is agreeable company. A little sister of that type has the fascinating dynamic that she is, for most of her life as a little sister, almost an equal.

The same cannot be said for a little sister like Keika. She is a quite literally a child compared to me. Her experiences and mine are a world apart and any connection she has on the foundation of her being a little sister to someone of my own age is more akin to a relationship between a parent and child. Only with time will she grow up and the age gap will begin to fade as a major roadblock that stops me from considering her my almost-equal.

It is especially noticeable in some very small moments that remind me of her vulnerability. When she boards the bus that will take us to where we want to go I instinctively worry if she can climb into it on her own or how I render her assistance concerning her seating arrangements without causing much of a fuzz.

The other occupants that had only given me a cursory look when I entered break out in goofy smiles when I help Keika onto a seat - little sisters are a perfect mood swing for an otherwise uneventful bus ride.

She dangles her feet in a rhythm that matches with a song she quietly hums. We probably look like night and day right now, such a brightly sparkling little kid, seemingly without a care in the world, next to me in my dark school uniform.

Keika's demeanor elicits a reaction from almost every new passenger who gets on. Smiles, glances and appreciative nods are thrown in her direction, I may have misheard but I thought I could detect one or two satisfied sighs from senior citizens. These positive actions quickly disappear when they realize who managed to get a seat next to this little girl.

It probably also does not help that I am in full Onii-chan mode, ready to defend the cute creature beside me. It is one of the few instances where I ostentatiously glare back at people, reflecting the ugliness society throws at me.

Children are not blind, however Kawasaki's little sister is not really shaken by my sudden turn towards grumpiness in public.

 _Perhaps I remind her of her older sister in that regard?_

It does not take long to reach the Hikigaya house. After we have taken our shoes off, the real babysitting job begins.

Watching over Keika is literally child's play. As a loner I have put a lot of experience points in simple but enjoyable activities that help to pass the time. Yesterday the internet helped me to reactivate some of these talents that are more suitable for minors.

Shadow play is one such activity although the lighting in our house and the time of the year does not currently allow for extravagant stories being told by me and accompanied by shadowy representations of the characters and their tales and deeds.

Another and far more easily demonstrated loner activity is cat's cradle. I do not know if I am especially gifted in that regard but years of nearly forgotten practice have been roused last night.

I show Keika how some easy figures can be made with a piece of string and encourage her to follow my example. The change of perspective when I have to help her and the fact that her hands are much smaller slow down the process but I am amply rewarded for my patience.

Every time she manages to recreate a particular piece a wide, toothy grin blooms on her face. The constant interplay of action and reaction, the waning and resurgence of concentration and elation are supremely primitive, yet honest and they warm the cockles of my heart.

We switch to more intricate figures and instead of copying my actions we are forced to work together on harder ones. These are the ones I could only play with my sister years ago and although I looked at them online my own hands become a lot more sluggish as I try to recall the instructions. Like any true gentleman, I take painstaking care to avoid touching her more than I have to. Whenever I am unable to avoid brushing up to her, I try to be as efficient as possible to reestablish the necessary distance.

The minutes fly by as we play in this manner. Well, to be exact, she plays whereas I am mentoring her in the inner workings of a pastime that I had to enjoy due to a lack of companionship throughout my childhood.

At some point Keika's interest is diminishing, her actions are slowing and her attentiveness in regards to the game is shrinking and redirected towards anything that is not the piece of string in her hands.

To my great relief, she is not anxious and does not need to use the bathroom. I had carefully monitored her fluid intake with the juice I provided her to gauge and brace myself for that eventuality but I am, by the grace of the babysitting gods, spared so far of that particular endeavor.

I shortly debate with myself whether I should read her a story or maybe have her watch me play a game on a console. The first option would require me to voice a lot of characters and I am not a really good actor because I preferred withdrawal from the society rather than putting on a mask. Additionally, my impersonation of female voices is supremely lacking, or so I have been told.

 _On the other hand, it means my voice is totally manly and thus attractive. Perhaps girls are simply intimidated by this feature and assume I am too cool for them or already have a girlfriend._

 _Note to self - investigate the possibility of earning money from home via podcasts._

Playing a game could work but the greatest asset of games - interactivity - is not shared by an observer. Another piece of doubt concerns the issue of genre. What kind of game could interest such a small girl?

We could also use some of the more simple shoujo manga my sister owns. However, for Keika to effectively enjoy the illustrations she would have to sit on my lap while I read the story to her. That is unacceptable and while I would have less of a problem, outside of the apparent issue of weight, with the same setup if it would involve Komachi, there are some bridges I will never consider crossing.

My solution is to retrieve some Precure DVDs and make Keika watch them while I watch her.

After Keika has been hooked by the first episode's flashy visuals I quietly go to my room to change out of my school uniform and into more comfortable clothes.

Although I have put down a book in front of me I find myself becoming enraptured with the show. Keika's enthusiasm is infectious and out of my naturally helpful self in regards to little sisters I assume the necessary duty to tell and explain some of the things that go over her head.

A minor discovery of note is that Keika insists on not skipping the opening and begins to hum along to the tune. With a little bit of doubt in my mind I show Keika the karaoke functionality of the special edition DVDs that I acquired for my sister and definitely not for myself.

It does not take long to have Keika and me to sing the tunes. She enjoys herself greatly but I cannot shake the impression that it also has to do with how much of a fool I am making out of myself every time I try to force a falsetto past my vocal chords.

Then again, children have horrible memories. She will forget this joyful moment as I have lost the memory of my few supposedly good childhood moments.

When my sister arrives, this particular revelry ends because I have an image of a serious and mature Onii-chan to maintain.

Komachi shatters the relatively quiet atmosphere of hitting all the wrong notes that was only punctuated by the frequent giggles from Keika and the obligatory self-depreciating smirk from me.

My sister has barely greeted me when she goes straight for Keika and loudly welcomes her.

"What a cutie-patootie."

At first Keika is unsettled by this very boisterous person but it takes mere minutes for her to warm up to Komachi. She is soon all over the little girl, ruffling her hair and playing with her little pigtails.

"Look, Onii-chan, when I lift up her hair she looks like a bunny."

 _Sorry, her hair is too short for her to qualify as the princess of the moon [7]._

Komachi's mind races with all the possibilities that Keika provides and comes to the conclusion that she is obviously far more suited and enthusiastic when it comes to taking care of Keika. That is really fine by me, because it translates into less work for me.

"Do you want hop up to my room like the adorable bunny you are, Keika-chan? I've got loads of fun stuff up there."

Keika shakes her head without hesitation.

"I wanna stay with Haa-chan."

Hearing my nickname Komachi becomes even more intrigued.

"So, he's 'Haa-chan', eh? I'm his little sister and like every little sister I'm eighty thousand times more fun than my sibling."

Not really convinced Kawasaki's little sister looks to me for guidance.

"She is not totally wrong. Variation is the spice of life and I will be there if you feel bored."

While Keika looks up to me to decipher if I tell the truth or just aim to get rid of her, Komachi sticks out her tongue behind her as if to counter my claim that any minute with her could be boring in the most childish manner at her disposal.

"Like any true gentleman, I could offer myself up to escort you two fine ladies upstairs if you want."

A chortle escapes Komachi.

"Ohoho, Onii-chan, do you think you can compete for points with me?"

Halfway up the stairs Komachi picks Keika up and piggybacks her to her room. Unwittingly, the suspension bridge effect comes into play and although Keika is surprised at first, she wastes no time to enjoy her high position atop Komachi's back. The adrenaline of a piggyback ride will ensure that Keika will remember Komachi with excitement.

With such an effective, albeit mundane, fusion dance, my little sister also temporarily manages to create a being that combines adorableness to an almost lethal level [8].

I, however, keep a good eye on them to keep Keika from bumping into anything until they reach their destination.

* * *

Kawasaki knows no rest.

When she rings the doorbell, she seems out of breath. I am unable to pinpoint whether this is due to the speed with which she rushed to see her little sister like the sibling-con she is or if it has to do with all the plastic bags she is carrying.

"Why is Keika not with you, is she okay?"

"Calm down, Kawasaki, she is upstairs with my sister. If they have heard the doorbell, they will be here shortly. And salutations to you too, by the way."

While she peers around in search of her sister, she mumbles an apologetic greeting.

True to my words, our siblings come barreling down from upstairs.

Out of the habit that frequent interaction with Isshiki has ingrained into me, I take the plastic bags off of Kawasaki. I reckon it the wise thing to do to facilitate a better reunion between the two siblings.

Kawasaki kneels down to receive a hug that is accompanied by the joyful exclamation of her nickname.

"Saa-chan!"

My classmate puts her arms around Keika in return and lovingly pats her head.

The whole scene would be really moving if these people had been separated for years and not a couple of hours. As it stands, their reaction is little excessive in my eyes. I look at Komachi thinking that there is no way we would behave like this.

"Don't daydream, Onii-chan, if you were that cute and cuddly, I would hug you all day."

 _How attuned to your brother you are, Komachi. I am amazed by the astounding mindreading skills my little sister has, they are only surpassed by her talent for crushing her brother's dreams. But who would long for a hug from such a brat after a long and arduous day anyway?_

Kawasaki and I settle into the kitchen whereas our younger siblings occupy the living room. We are in a position where Kawasaki can easily sate her desire to keep an eye on Keika. My little sister has brought some of her stuffed dolls downstairs to entertain our little guest.

It's also heartening to see that she has kept so many. I vividly remember how she used to play with them in front of me and told me stories of their exploits.

Kamakura has also awoken and with the choice between two groups of people, he naturally selects the one with more females and joins Komachi and Keika.

Normally, I would be with them, nominally to play the chaperone but secretly trying to read, watching Precure or playing on my game console. However, the circumstances are different because the presence of Kawasaki allows for the opportunity to gain more insight into what might await me in my future profession as a househusband.

It is still the late afternoon, barely on the cusp of evening. This would usually be a little too early for dinner in the Hikigaya family but I guess that the metabolism of such a young girl like Keika has different requirements.

The stress and the excitement of a new environment, meeting new people and playing with them must surely have made her hungry.

My fellow loner deposits the plastic bags on the kitchen counter.

"So, what did you have in mind for dinner?"

"Well, I've found a good deal on horse mackerel and when I also got the right vegetables a bit cheaper I thought I'd go with Namerou and for a side dish I've bought hijiki and some aburaage if you have some other ingredients in your house we could make a fine seaweed salad out of that."

I have no objections with that. The minced fish of Namerou is the traditional dish of Chiba's fishermen and as a patriot it definitely appeals to me. Add some rice to that and we will not suffer starvation.

Only when she unpacks her procurements I begin to doubt her assessment of what the four people in this house can realistically digest. Counting more than two dozen fish filets and a veritable mountain of vegetables leave me temporarily without words.

Correctly sensing my incredulity in the face of this massive pile of unprocessed food Kawasaki sheepishly tries to explain.

"I don't expect you to eat it all by yourself, you know."

She points towards one plastic bag that has so far remained untouched.

"There are some containers in there I've brought with me from home. I'll take the leftovers back for my brother and my parents."

That makes sense from an economical point of view. It would be a waste of energy for her to cook another meal for her family later this evening. This is an important part of being a househusband - the ability to plan for the future and foresee the family's needs in advance in order to avoid stressful work as much as possible.

On the other hand, it means more work right now for me and my willingness to lead her into the kitchen turns out to have been a folly.

 _Curse you, gods of romantic comedy and especially you, Banana Yoshimoto, for all the misleading lies [9]._

It is no help and I have only myself to blame. At first I gather all the ingredients in the kitchen that we still need and collect whatever plates, bowls and cutlery we might have to use later. During my rummaging I discover that we still had some radish salad in the fridge and I successfully propose to Kawasaki that we include it in this meal.

However, mincing vegetables and cutting fish is not what I am here for. The monotonous work of preparing a meal is easily learned and refined through practice, reproducing recipes and following instructions are also task that I can definitely accomplish without assistance.

What I am after is the knowledge of a housewife. I could have also asked Yukinoshita because she is doing quite well on her own but I fear her family's affluence makes it hard to copy her. Her preferred solution would be only to acquire the best tools for the job at hand. In contrast to her stands Kawasaki whose experience includes caring for more than one person and whose socio-economic position is closer to mine.

I begin to approach my goal as innocently as I can while we stand side by side reducing the mountain of food before us with swift cuts from our knives.

"Judging from the different kinds of plastic bags you went to several stores, right?"

She blows a strand of hair out of her face before she answers not wanting to risk touching her hair with her fingers that are currently smelling like fish.

"Yeah, so what?"

"I was wondering how you knew where to go to get this much food for an affordable price."

"You just gotta be on the lookout for that kind of stuff."

What an unsatisfactory answer but since my partner in this conversation is Kawasaki I just have to be specific and patient to coax the more detailed answers out of her.

"What do I need to be on the lookout for specifically?"

Kawasaki inhales and exhales slowly while apparently in deep thought before she finds the right words.

"Adverts, flyers, sometimes but rarely something on the internet, signs in the windows, coupons - all that jazz."

That confirms my suspicions, things like these will not surface in national newspapers like my father's Nikkei but perhaps in local papers and brochures. However, what makes me pause most of all when listening to her is that advertisement can be misleading.

Sometimes aggressive ads are a way to quickly sell crap or products of inferior quality.

 _Source: my part-time jobs._

"Advertisement and flashy signs aren't everything."

I flip a little bit of onion skin off of my fingers.

"How do you strike a satisfactory balance between the quantifiable economical side but also ensure enough quality?"

My fellow loner temporarily ceases her work to think about a good reply before she resumes chopping.

"Look where the housewives go, I guess."

So everything still ends in a popularity contest. Her answer makes sense, the higher the acclaim of the product the more it will attract customers. So when buying foodstuffs as a househusband I will have to look out for advertisement to land a good deal and see if the shop is regularly getting customers. I think I can do that, I have followed similar mission objectives during my hunt for ramen shops in Chiba.

Suddenly, I notice out of the corner of my eye that Kawasaki furrows a brow in what could either be annoyance or concentration. I have no idea what caused that, I have maintained a respectful distance and Komachi and Keika are not too noisy. All I can do is wait for her to stop making that face or explaining herself.

I am relieved when my classmate puts down the knife she has been using because it largely eliminates the possibility that she is angry.

She drums with her fingers while she is focused inwards.

"Thinking about it, I usually look where the younger housewives go. Older people often just go to shops that they know or that they can reach conveniently."

Now that is a really valuable nugget of information. People easily fall into a routine and lose sight of the little advantages they can gain by deviating from their normal proceedings. It should be obvious that senior citizens opt for routes that accommodate their need for personal validation by visiting a shop where the owner knows them or where they can be certain the products they have been using for years are in stock.

I decide to compliment her for providing me with this insight.

"That is good advice."

For a short moment she allows a smile to cross her features.

"You're welcome."

We continue to prepare the meal in silence.

With us being more or less silent, the rambunctious behavior of Komachi and Keika becomes more apparent. They are slowly crossing the line from loud to noisy. Although these are sounds of laughter and merriment, they do lack some polite restraint.

When Komachi comes into view twirling Keika like a ballerina Kawasaki has enough and urges them to be a little bit more careful.

To be precise, my classmate was admonishing my sister for her carefree attitude.

"Hey, please cut that out. Both of you might get hurt."

My sister grows a little bit more sluggish in her movements as she answers Kawasaki's request.

"Yeah, yeah, will do."

Turning to me, my blue-haired fellow kitchen occupant apologizes.

"Sorry, I don't wanna make the rules in your own house but what if they bump into something and get hurt?"

She should not be such a worrywart, I completely understand her in this regard since I do not wish for my precious little sister to be hurt in all her exuberance as well.

"Do not worry, I understand."

Her features soften up at that. She licks her lips before she begins to address me once more.

"As long as we're alone Hikigaya ..."

She fully turns to me with moist eyes and a tired but content smile on her lips.

"Please look at me."

 _What a curious demand, what is she going to do?_

When I face her she turns her head sideways and her bangs shield her eyes from me for just a moment. Out of the blue she sighs in a way that seems to be outrageously womanly. When she finally cranes her neck to face me again my brain makes a useless and trivial but nevertheless distracting observation concerning her usually half-closed, tired eyes.

 _Could these be the fabled 'bedroom eyes'?_

I gulp and brace myself.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Thanks for watching Keika today, I wasn't sure at the beginning but she seems really happy."

Inwardly I am relieved that she only wanted to show her gratefulness out of earshot from our siblings. She was probably afraid that it would only awkward at the dinner table or that she would have missed her opportunity later.

 _I guess I can attribute the moisture in her eyes to the fact that we had to slice onions._

"No problem."

My answer may seem non-committal but that is because her words stir something else in me and I involuntarily focus my eyes on the little bundle of joy I had to take care of. It is not that I look at her form but more accurately at what she represents in this moment - happiness.

Kawasaki has apparently followed my line of sight and eventually decides to air her own thoughts.

"Remembering how easy happiness comes to children, huh?"

I shake my head.

"Those days are long gone. This happiness has become unattainable."

My conversation partner sighs.

"You're such a downer."

I shake my head once more.

"I am a realist. The specific happiness of children is distinct from the happiness of their elders."

My voice grows more quiet as my thoughts become more wistful in these matters and their utmost ephemeral nature.

"Children do not know the trappings of the world they're born into and only find out later. Happiness is easily obtained by children because they are usually unaware of the opposite depths of despair."

No noise escapes Kawasaki that could indicate what she feels about my musings and without a clear signal to stop I continue speaking.

"Happiness for older humans means to be happy in spite of their knowledge that the tables could turn quickly. In consequence, happiness for adults is either to simply forget their worries for a short time or to transcend them in a bout of tranquility."

There are no noises in the kitchen besides the laughter and loud voices reaching us from where our siblings are.

My guest in our family's kitchen manages to break the silence first with a short, dry laugh.

"Heh, who woulda guessed that there's such a philosophizing monk hidden behind your visage."

Not thinking about the consequences I shoot straight back.

"Not much harder to discover than it is to find that behind all the delinquent behavior there is such soft mother material."

She abruptly turns away from me and for a moment I am afraid I have offended her by poking fun at her strong female persona she takes on in public and by shining a light on the discrepancy between her behavior around different people.

It is only with the next words from her that my apprehension is alleviated.

"Thank you."

We complete the dinner preparations in silence both preoccupied with our own thoughts and musings.

* * *

The food we made does not taste bad, it is neither spectacular, nor revolting. We had to season it to lesser degree than I would have preferred but I guess that Keika is not yet ready for more spices. But even that is a good lesson in this househusband study session for me because I now have an idea what level of seasoning might be too much for a young child.

Dinner for four people is an activity that is usually relegated to the weekends in the Hikigaya household. Another anomaly exists because we are only using three chairs. Komachi and I had no problems with Keika sitting unassisted on the fourth one but Kawasaki pointed out that her sister would need several pillows to comfortably reach a height that would allow her to eat.

As a result, Keika is sitting on her sister's lap and inconsistently getting fed by her although she uses a spoon to eat on her own as well whenever Kawasaki herself takes a bite or talks with Komachi. This in turn means that the Kawasaki siblings should in theory occupy one half of the table. However, Komachi enjoyed Keika's company so much that she had felt the desire to have Keika sit in her lap for a while as well but she soon switches back to her original sister.

This female conspiracy resulted in me sitting isolated on one side of the table while the girls crowded the other half.

 _It almost feels like the customs developed by the females in the Service Club have followed me back home into my own house._

On the other hand while I am eating I can lean back to enjoy the antics in front of me. Kawasaki tries to no avail to be a proper eater but with a squirming little sister on her knees any tries result in failure and she eventually concentrates on feeding Keika until she is docile.

Keika had brought her own spoon which as I noted to my great amusement was a Pan-san design.

 _I bet Yukipedia would have extensive entries about the specific intricacies and general design generations of Pan-San cutlery and claiming it to be required common knowledge for properly functioning people in society._

Komachi has less compunctions about sitting straight and being a good example to Keika. She devotes most of her time to sneaking little treats from her own bowls onto Keika's spoon.

Keika is not only loving the attention from both but I think she is also subconsciously appreciating the contrast between her collected real Onee-san and the fun-loving, outgoing Nee-chan that my sister probably seems to be in her eyes.

While we eat I throw the occasional glance at Kawasaki. I may have said that she was mother material but some of the evidence points to the contrary. There is no denying that she is a girl of high school age. While her demeanor at school and the duties at home paint a picture of a very mature girl that is disinterested in the useless dealings of her peers I count the signs that anchor her in her environment and age group.

The first piece of evidence is her hair. It may lack the delicate and well-crafted arrangements that Yuigahama and Miura sport but the length is definitely a sign of pride and outwardly projected femininity.

Whether she wants to or not, she stands out with such a long ponytail. She may style herself like she is disinterested in most things but I fear that is not the case.

In fact, I am very positive in my evaluation that Kawasaki, however unwillingly, acts like a normal girl from top to bottom.

First of all even her choice of underwear plays into this because it is the first thing she puts on in the morning. While it may be a subconscious action, it speaks volumes about her that she does not go for a more conservative or utilitarian piece of clothing.

 _Not that I am complaining, of course._

Then there is more to her hair or to be more precise to her hair ornaments. Yukinoshita has her small bows that accentuate the dark silkiness of her hair and Kawasaki has her scrunchie. The point is that the scrunchie is likely the last piece of her outfit that she puts on which means that the very first and last actions of her dressing routine must reinforce her self-image as a normal girl.

I am taken out of these musing when I become the girls' topic of choice. Komachi and Kawasaki stare at the former's phone screen, then look at me and my little sister cannot help herself but break out in laughter. My classmate does a better job at holding in her elation but she wears an uncharacteristically wide smile.

Questioningly I raise an eyebrow as I wait for my little sister to get a hold of herself.

"Bwahaha, don't make a face like a spoilsport, Onii-chan. When Keika and I were upstairs I put her in one of your short-sleeved shirts and it fit her like a dress."

Although I appreciate the idea that Komachi has one of my shirts to remind her of me, I am slightly taken aback at the fact that she made a photo of Keika in my shirt. This was probably all in good fun but given what kind of suspicions I have to endure this picture might be an incriminating piece of evidence.

Kawasaki shrugs her shoulders with barely concealed merriment and totally misunderstands the rather doubtful face that I am sporting.

"It doesn't look that weird, Hikigaya."

 _Do these poor women do not know that a guy's shirt worn by a girl is like the flag of a conqueror flying above a newly acquired fortress? As cute as she might be right now, I cannot just wait 20 years for her to become old enough to support me.  
_

A side effect of Kawasaki and my sister leaning closer is that Kawasaki's lap apparently has become too uncomfortable for Keika. She has been occasionally eying me for a short while now. The difference between the lively side of the table she is on and seeing me mostly eating in silence and observing my surroundings must seem curious to one who is not experienced in the eay of the loners.

She looks at me apprehensively as if she wants me to mirror what I am witnessing and partake in the joyful atmosphere.

To my further detriment she also spots that I have not finished all my radish salad and that gives her an opening. Used to her sister's style of cautious seasoning Keika had quickly developed an interest over the course of this meal in the one piece of food that deviated from the norm she was accustomed to.

This results in the smaller Kawasaki sibling jumping down from her sister's lap and rounding the table to come to my side.

Komachi cannot restrain her sly comments.

"Oh my, Onii-chan gets all the girls."

I silently seek permission from Kawasaki while her younger sister expectantly looks up to me.

My classmate nods with a generous, if a bit apprehensive, smile and I lift Keika onto my lap in one fell swoop.

Equipped with her Pan-san spoon the little girl happily digs into my leftovers.

The awkwardness for me is close to being palpable. Meanwhile my little sister opposite of me is cooing at the sight of me and Keika.

Her older neighbor in our seating arrangement looks almost forlorn with being content, her eyes trained on her little sister on my knees.

Then my own little sister comes up with another simultaneously humiliating and devious idea.

"Hey, Saki-san. Do you mind me taking a photo of your sister right now? Her cuteness nearly balances out my Onii-chan."

 _Ah, why do you torment me so, Komachi?_

It takes several seconds for this ridiculous idea to register in Kawasaki's brain.

"Huh, yeah. A-and I might a-also want to take one."

She betrayed my expectation that she would shield me from this experience. Although I do not grasp the inherent contradiction of my despair I must ask where the loyalty among fellow loners has gone. As if she senses my disapproval her cheeks gain a bit of color and her voice grows quieter as she states her own desire for a picture.

"Wait a second, do I get no say in this? Where is my privacy?"

"Quiet, Onii-chan! Keika-chan has to balance out enough as it is."

Komachi quickly snaps a picture with her phone. I do not really want to see it and just desire for this ordeal to end, I probably look extremely sourly and Keika is being her happy and cute self. Whatever elevates this situation to something of value eludes me as it is close to resembling what I experienced on the bus ride some hours ago and there was nothing worthwhile to remember about that that would warrant freezing it in a still frame.

Kawasaki takes a bit longer. She looks up from her phone screen to my side of the table several times and adjusts the position of her camera before I hear the distinct sound of a photo being made.

Her hesitation has given Komachi enough time to lean in Kawasaki's direction in order to take a glance at her screen although our pony-tailed guest immediately tries to put her phone away.

"Oh, I think Keika-chan was a little bit out of focus in that picture. Better take another one, Saki-san."

Kawasaki is obviously embarrassed by her failing and tries to defend herself.

"I'm not used to the phone's camera, okay?"

While Kawasaki takes another picture, Komachi makes a show out of winking and wagging her eyebrows at me.

 _Yeah, I get it, this all fun and games to you and I should not worry. No need to be so obvious about it!_

She is a good sister despite her bratty nature. The fact that I endure her bouts of selfishness should tell anyone how much I like her.

With Keika having feasted on my salad there is no more desire among us to eat any more and thus ends our dinner. Kawasaki is the first to extricate herself from the table with the hint that she better begin cleaning up if she wants to be home on time.

Like the good hosts we are Komachi and I naturally help her. While Kawasaki scrubs the tableware, Komachi dries it off and I put it back where it belongs. In the meantime, Keika catches up on some random Precure episode we have put on for her.

It does not take us long to finish and my last job for today is escorting Kawasaki and Keika home.

They live close enough that we can walk the entire way. In fact, the Kawasaki household is so close that Kawasaki and I might have shared the same middle school were it not for the highway that separates the school districts.

For me that is a godsend because she does not know my terrible past and what I had to endure and what stupid things I did. We can respect each other as loners because we have no shared baggage that would inconvenience our infrequent interactions.

We take small steps to accommodate Keika's short legs. I gift her a smile as she bravely marches on. This day has her seen getting picked up earlier, riding the bus to a strange house, playing with unfamiliar people and eating new things. She must be tired but her dedication and energy is admirable.

She is holding her older sister's hand while the latter also carries a plastic bag with the leftovers.

Unexpectedly Keika hesitantly reaches up to me and grabs my sleeve. Her wide eyes shine with trepidation but she fights her fears and asks me for my consent in the most confusing manner I have yet experienced to date.

"Will Haa-chan be Keika's spice of life?"

It does take only a few seconds to dawn on me that this is an imperfect recitation of what I said some hours ago, yet I cannot deny that it tugs at my heartstrings to hear my words internalized and repeated by this utterly cute child. I nod in response and her grip on my sleeve tightens.

Kawasaki seems extremely bewildered by what her little sister just said but I explain to her that I used a similar idiom today before.

Slowly but surely Keika's stubby little hand wanders into my larger one and stays there.

 _Just my kind of luck, the first time I hold hands with a girl when I am in high school and the girl visits a nursery school._

Come to think of it, I do not remember ever holding someone's hand before. I must have held hands with people in kindergarten and elementary school during field trips but I cannot remember the sensation of holding another life in my hand outside of the few situations where I held Koamchi's hand while crossing the street years ago.

Before I can try to conjure up more memories to see if I am wrong, another pedestrian quickly rounds a corner and nearly bumps into us.

It is someone we know all too well.

"Hikigaya, so good to meet you here."

Hiratsuka-sensei is accompanied by the usual amounts of gaiety and despair. The latter quality is one she shares with a lot of unconventional teachers although her reasons for it are a lot more mundane.

"And good day to you, Kawasaki, what brings you here?"

Before we can answer beyond a mere greeting our teacher becomes aware of the little girl that is physically linking Kawasaki and me.

"Oh, what a cute little girl you both have with you."

Keika gives her the greatest smile she can muster.

When Hiratsuka's eyes once again level with ours there is amusement in her voice.

"If I had known this was the reason that you two were always so tired I would have been more lenient. However, you two could at least wear rings in public to announce that you are taken."

She lays a hand on my shoulder in mock sympathy.

"I'm just joking. You know, I just got back from an engagement. A friend of mine was worried that she was being cheated on and I wanted to help her."

She rattles her bag to reveal the distinct sound of glass bottles.

"But you know what? Life is funny in its randomness. Her boyfriend was merely distant because he waited for the right moment to propose. Isn't that a funny coincidence, Hikigaya?"

 _Sensei, your grip is hurting me._

"She is the love of his life, you know."

 _It hurts._

"Their attraction was so great they met in high school and found each other again after college."

 _It hurts._

"I'm truly happy for them."

 _What can I expect if my teacher finally discovers her talent as a hydraulic press? Will I get a prosthesis for the arm that is currently not supplied with blood? Will my shoulder mend? If all goes horribly wrong will I find out if angels look like winged Komachis or Totsukas?_

My life-saving aid comes from a cherub who looks suspiciously like Keika.

"Saa-chan, what's the old woman saying [10]?"

Hearing these words tears well up in our teacher's eyes. When she notices our cringing she weakly tries to defend herself.

"These are proofs of happiness, you both."

Kawasaki and I nod dumbfounded.

"And now I need to go home, to be happy there, by myself, because I'm so delicate I cannot take this amount of happiness."

All life has drained from Hiratsuka-sensei. Like a shambling corpse from a bad movie she walks away into the night.

Kawasaki slowly shakes her head in disbelief at what she just witnessed.

"Damn, she needs to get married soon."

Blinded by pain and even a little sympathy for Hiratsuka-sensei I find myself only able to respond with the most asinine reply to an obvious statement that my brain can recollect from its darkest pits.

"Preach it."

Near their house Keika becomes fidgety. Her steps become more sluggish and she looks back and forth between her sister and me. The words that leave her mouth are full of hesitancy and worry.

"W-will Saa-chan and Haa-chan play together with Keika again?"

Kawasaki share a mutual look. Keika pulls on our hands like a puppeteer pulls on the strings of his dolls.

I decide to practice the virtue of honesty.

"Well, I did not mind today."

"S-so did I, you were a great help."

"Your household tips were very interesting."

Kawasaki looks away in embarrassment but bravely soldiers on.

"I-i could text you some recipes and stuff."

She is not offering much but she has never been a master of the rhetoric arts. What matters is the intent and whether I think a continued relationship that is build on give and take could function adequately.

"That might work."

Kawasaki does not lose the shade of red she gets in reaction to my agreement to babysit Keika and spend time with her again at some unspecified point in the future for the rest of the way. I briefly consider taking her bags in order to combat her apparent exhaustion.

Keika is understandably overjoyed and ecstatic and promises to bring some toys with her the next time.

Saying goodbye to them leaves me alone with my thoughts on this relatively cold night in Chiba. I must have been too distracted by the familial warmths exuded by the Kawasaki siblings to not notice the temperature drop.

On my way home I come to the conclusion that Keika's request is likely a result of her absent parents. Since both of them are working as corporate slaves she probably misses her father and mother a lot. Speaking from experience, the days during the week when a young child might not even see her or his parents are especially lonely.

Eating together and playing with Komachi and me must have seemed like a wonderful variation on the drudgery of her normal day. Maybe that is why she also reacted so positively to the proverb I used. Another avenue of thought I cannot completely disprove is the impression that by sharing the burden between more people her older sister will have a little bit less to do.

Younger siblings can often carry a bit of guilty conscience, I see it every time my grandparents obviously spoil Komachi to far greater degree than myself. She lets it happen but she always tries to make amends.

When I return home, I find that the best little sister of them all has prepared a bath for me. I relax and let the ebb and flow of the water around my body slowly breathe some life into my tired limbs.

* * *

[1] The startup sequence of the titular mecha from 'The Big O' always contains this message.

[2] Haruhi Suzumiya series and Hyouka.

[3] Hagakure is a classic book about the Japanese warrior code (bushido) from the 18th century written by a retired samurai from Saga. It lays emphasis on familial loyalty, deference to superiors and a confrontative spirit not unlike the later 'attaque à outrance' in Western armies.

[4] The word 'scarecrow' in Japanese is 'Kakashi'. Kakashi is a fairly popular ninja character from Naruto.

[5] Slightly altered line from the Evangelion 2.0 OST track 'Keep Your Head Above The Mayhem'.

[6] 'Kuro' means black in Japanese which given what Hikigaya noticed about Kawasaki during their first meeting should make the joke obvious, furthermore the 'death wish' is my laughable attempt at wordplay because the main character of the Bleach manga is named 'Kurosaki' and is a part-time death god.

[7] Sailor Moon's civilian first name is 'Usagi' which translates to bunny.

[8] The fusion dance is a technique from Dragon Ball that allows two people to form a composite character to combine their power.

[9] Banana Yoshimoto is a contemporary author whose first novel is titled 'Kitchen'. The content of this book deals to a certain degree with the happiness the main character derives from food or working in the kitchen.

[10] In Japanese the words for aunt (i.e. also unrelated older female) and granny (i.e. also unrelated much older female) are phonetically very similar.

Author's Note:

Goals for this chapter: Have a confrontation between Yukinoshita and Kawasaki without giving either of them the obvious high ground. Have some humor and perhaps most importantly, some fluff between Kawasaki and Hikigaya while keeping everything believable.

I had promised to make this chapter a bit shorter than the last one and I obviously failed but I hope it is at least satisfying to read. Feel free to tell me any criticism you might have in regards to this chapter and if you berate me enough for all my shortcomings I might even believe some of the praise that could accidentally come my way.


	4. Step: 63,674

Standard Disclaimer: I don't own Oregairu and I do not make money publishing this story.

* * *

 **A Journey Of A Thousand Miles**

* * *

"Let's go on a date."

 _Isn't that a little bit too early? At least buy me flowers beforehand._

My hesitation betrays my doubts in regard to the feasibility of this potential endeavor.

"Come ooon, senpai."

Isshiki looks at me with upturned eyes like a puppy, a carefully maintained pout adorning her face.

"Or is being with me not fun anymore?"

Luckily, I am immune to her charms thanks to the cutest sister of them all although Isshiki is doing her best with a hunched posture that is designed to make her appear more vulnerable and her hands gripping the hem of her slightly oversized cardigan.

"Ah, if you're thinking of confessing your love on this occasion and doing something improper I must disappoint you for now. We'll be accompanying the student council treasurer and secretary."

Wait a minute, did she just say 'for now'? Stop it with the unwanted scares you are giving me here!

But what her idea boils down to is ultimately just a double date then, another chance for me to be the superfluous fourth wheel on a tricycle and fade into the background of people obviously more comfortable around each other.

Nevertheless, it vexes me a little how Isshiki never seemed really close with them but I guess sharing work in the student council has given them some team spirit.

I decide to get the most obvious question out of the way.

"Oh, Isshiki did they invite you to come along and Hayama refused to participate in this double date?"

She squirms a little as I ask her this question, I may have overstepped my boundaries and reminded her of another painful rejection.

"Actually, I did not ask Hayama-senpai, I need you specifically for this."

That takes me aback for a moment as I stare at her in disbelief. Does she not know that such words can easily misinterpreted and subsequently mislead innocent boys?

I still manage to maintain my decency and look away in embarrassment.

 _You are sly Isshiki, way too sly!_

"Eh, It's not like you think, senpai."

She raises one of her hands to her lips in thought.

"I haven't asked them either yet but I need to confirm you're coming with me and keeping your eyes and ears open for a special task."

Having said that she winks at me.

By now she has lost me completely. Was this all a cruel prank at my expense? I mean, I am certainly glad that she cleared up any misunderstanding by calling my presence necessary and alluding to a nebulous task I have to perform but that simply opens another can of worms.

My curiosity gets the better of me and yet my doubts cannot be silenced altogether. As a result an almost silent sigh precedes my question.

"What do you want?"

Isshiki recoils in mock-horror at the sight of me giving in to her.

"Senpai, did you grow old when you became a third-year? A cute girl just invited you to come with her, there's definitely no need to be sighing and asking ridiculous questions."

Cute from a certain perspective to be precise - preferably a safe distance away from all her craftiness. Furthermore, the very specific denial at the end jumps out at me like an alarm siren in the night.

"It is just that I did not know you were so close with them"

She makes a defensive gesture with her right hand.

"Eh, we are not close but I'd like to get to know them. You see, we have just finished allocating the club budgets and had to redo them several times because the sports clubs, except the football club, and the drama club had trouble with fluctuating member counts as with every beginning of the new school year. You wouldn't believe what a hassle that was."

Like she is expecting a badge of honor, she puffs her modest chest out when she names the football club as an exception. Maybe it really is her doing or just Hayama's infuriating involvement that makes this club so successful.

As for the other clubs it makes sense that the club membership declines or goes up even after the first week. Training regimens might be different than the newcomers expected or the atmosphere was not just right.

It does not happen often but Isshiki does manage to impress me from time to time with her diligence. Maybe she and the rest of the student council really need time to relax but it still does not explain why I should be there.

"Alright, you did a good job and want to reward yourself but why are you celebrating only with these two and dragging me along and not with the rest of the council?"

She leans forward and whispers almost conspiratorially although we are quite alone in this school hallway.

"I suspect they're a couple."

That is all? Do you want them to reveal themselves to you by posing with me as something I am definitely not? Curiosity is not always a virtue, especially in the personal matters of others.

"Do not roll your eyes, senpai. I just don't want them goofing off while we're on duty and I need to be suuure."

My formerly stated admiration of your person was kind of premature, I think. You should never supervise something like a human resources department or perhaps be the boss of anyone if you cannot stand to see others enjoying the supposedly small perks in life you do not possess, Isshiki.

In that way she would perhaps be the worst kind of boss to work under.

For a moment I wonder if the whole idea of a student council is not merely there to separate future corporate slaves from future corporate slaves in managerial positions.

The flaxen-haired president averts her eyes.

"And I really want you to be there with me."

Before I can explore this delicate statement we are interrupted by the faint noise of shuffling feet that are heading in our direction and a door that is being thrown open.

The figure that emerges from the door is well-known to me by this point.

Kawasaki seems distracted at first with one hand rummaging through her skirt pocket and a furrowed brow upon her forehead.

When we finally enter her field of vision, her steps become a lot more energetic and what has been a tired shuffle almost manages to resemble an energetic stride.

One could almost manage to hear the exclamation mark popping up over her head and as my luck would have it there was no cardboard box in Isshiki's vicinity to hide in [1].

Foregoing any greeting my classmate just calls out to me.

"Hey, why weren't you in the library?"

The first of our one-on-one study sessions that we had agreed upon was due.

Because the rate at which she had been mailing me food recipes was far too much to form an equivalent exchange for me watching over Keika on one more occasion during the break between school years we had agreed to additional compensation in the form of study sessions.

That is to say, Kawasaki totally misunderstood me when I said that writing me mails asking for my input on our homework and even on exam preparation material was an inefficient method to communicate reasonably well-formulated content.

So that was the official reason why I am here in the first place but Isshiki expertly intercepted me on my way with her first request of the new school year.

My study partner straightens up and crosses her arms to signal her displeasure regarding my tardiness as she stops in front of me.

It takes her a second or two to notice Isshiki who is trying to hide behind my back.

"Ah, I didn't knooow. Why didn't you say that you already had a d-"

While I should be feeling hurt that Isshiki is so quick to lay the blame on me I cannot fault her with the face Kawasaki is making right now. Folded arms, squinted eyes, grumpy expression - all the signs point to trouble.

My kouhai quietly gulps.

"A-a-an appointment?"

Kawasaki does not reply but her stare becomes more intense and as she practically looms over Isshiki the latter's hands begin to shake.

 _I swear, my classmate is actually quite tame._

When my pony-tailed acquaintance purses her lips to begin to speak, I feel a small jolt going through my body. I hope that the sensation of fear is not that much greater for Isshiki.

"Don't I know you from the entrance ceremony? Aren't you the StuCo president?"

Isshiki and I exchange a nonplussed look and although we are both surprised, we quickly regain our composure.

However, it makes sense for Kawasaki to not know the student council president of her own school. She is too disinterested in her surroundings and also not in any club to notice the change from the fluffy Megu-Megurin to the foxy Isshiki apart from her involvement in the election scam I pulled off.

They should have met, or more specifically, have at least been at the same location at the same time during the Valentine Day's event but I cannot say that they ever really interacted with one another.

My classmate turns to me.

"Am I interrupting something official? I thought you had no club today."

Isshiki is the first to answer and shakes her hands in denial.

"Eh, it's nothing important."

That is probably not really what it looks like, especially when the student council president seeks to conduct a conversation with an absolute nobody in the school's hierarchy in such an obviously conspiratorial manner.

The awkward silence that follows is almost tangible.

Perhaps motivated by guilt Kawasaki tries to alleviate the leaden atmosphere that has overcome this conversation.

"Uh, great entrance ceremony speech, first one I did not fall asleep halfway through."

 _Never mind, her social skills regarding compliments are terrible._

How do you even know if it was a good ceremony if that was the first one you witnessed from start to finish?

Furthermore, I am quite certain I know the real reason why you were awake this time. I could detect the discrete glances you were sneaking towards the new first-years.

To my great consternation Kawasaki Taishi had passed his entrance exams just like my sister although she had to struggle quite a bit compared to how I did three years ago.

The whole affair just means more work for me because now I have to watch out for my sister.

 _Hopefully, that insect finds a fitting female praying mantis that takes care of him._

And I must say I was impressed by Isshiki's speech as well but for totally different reasons. I had feared to be roped into the planning for the ceremony during the school break but this fear never manifested into something real.

However, there was something off about this year's entrance ceremony. It was not only the obvious difference between being addressed by Meguri-senpai and being enveloped by her fluffy aura in contrast to Isshiki's speech patterns but I think I also detected that her speech was far shorter than those of her predecessor and that the sound quality deteriorated somewhat during her speech.

I think I overheard some students later claiming that the bad sound must have come from faulty or only partially charged batteries of the wireless microphones that our school uses.

The incident had slipped my mind because I was busy trying to ignore my father on that day who was loudly ruminating whether he should join the PTA for the sake of his 'precious daughter' [2].

Maybe it was sabotage committed by the people who had bullied her? The student body representatives are usually the last people to hold a speech and discharging the batteries would, with the right timing, only affect them.

Still, that does not make sense because the microphones are likely to get checked before such an occasion. Another point that raises my doubt is how would they gain access to the microphones during the school break and know enough about them?

Considering who was the target I can also not exclude the possibility of self-inflicted sabotage. I can vividly imagine how one can get into the good graces of the teachers and PTA if the student council president shortens her own speech for the sake of others on an extremely short notice instead of demanding that everyone suddenly cuts down on their talking points.

Additionally, if it had been an inside job, then Isshiki could have adequately prepared herself and would have not been obligated to write a long speech and that would explain why she did not need to conscript Yukinoshita or me as her ghostwriter.

Granted, that is all circumstantial evidence but it makes me wonder.

"Say, Isshiki, about that entrance ceremony-"

"Nothing was wrong with that, senpai. But I wouldn't want to interrupt you any further."

She laughs nervously and takes off with a quick goodbye.

When she is out of sight Kawasaki turns to me with a face that seems split between a confused and an apologetic look.

"What's her deal?"

* * *

Studying with Kawasaki is rather inconvenient for my taste. Whereas I would prefer to idle the time away at Saizeriya or just do my homework at home, she avoids these places for studying during the day. Possibly because she is stingy with money and because she probably gets roped into doing duties at home as soon as she sets a foot insider her house.

I can empathize with the latter, getting coerced performing into unwanted activities is something I have to suffer regularly.

As a result that meant that the library was probably the best place for this study session to occur.

The dynamic between us two classmates as study partners is also different from my other experiences. Studying with Yuigahama is a slow affair because she requires constant supervision and needs to be questioned at every turn, lest she does her work half-heartedly.

Yukinoshita is a whole different beast. Compared to her even I feel slow and dumb. She can grasp almost any concept immediately and only her inadequate social skills slow her down because she is not accustomed to other people's paces. She is subsequently alternating between leaving her study partners to do their work all by themselves or closely watching over them and asking leading questions all the way through.

Both of them are exhausting, albeit in different ways.

Kawasaki is different but at the same time very similar to them.

She is not as slow as Yuigahama and not as fast and patronizing as Yukinoshita. Yet there is an exhaustive quality to her style of doing work and that is sheer quantity - just as she has littered the inbox of my phone with mails containing food recipes over the last few weeks.

 _I think I do now understand the plight of my poor classmates who had to endure my mails in middle school._

 _That doesn't mean I will strike them from the list of people I will never forgive. They could have practiced the same dignified acceptance of life's hardships that characterizes my own conduct._

Normally one would imagine her taking advantage of me by only using me for my extensive knowledge about the humanities.

However, to my great consternation she seems to be the type who forces herself to do everything in one go and that means instead of half-assing what little math I have to do in the evening or late at night I am probably forced to give it some attention this afternoon if I do not act fast.

Most of our studying is done in silence and keenly aware of our exposed place in the library we keep a professional distance from one another.

During an assignment that has us comparing the government structures laid down in the Meiji constitution with the current one, Miura enters the library and walks to the reception desk.

Since Kawasaki is sitting opposite of me I am the only one who notices her entrance. She seems to be alone for once and returns a book ornately decorated with flower motifs. My cautious look in her direction is met with a haughty stare that seems to recognize us as two of her classmates.

However, before anything can come of it Miura quickly storms outside at her usually self-important queenly pace.

I have only a few chances to slow down this study session before I have to suffer the indignity to my self-esteem that is math.

One such opportunity presents itself during a lull when Kawasaki stretches herself with a weary sigh. She leans her upper body sideways on the table to cool her body on its cold surface.

When she is this tired with her half-lidded eyes and her very individualistic streak she reminds me of a cat.

Maybe that is the key to making her palatable to Yukinoshita. If I squint my eyes hard enough I could claim that her mannerisms - her territorial nature regarding her comfort zone, her perpetual exhaustion, her uncaring attitude and her dysfunctions regarding relaying correct and concise information are akin to those of a feline who just cannot decide whether she wants to stay indoors or roam outside.

"Bwah, this kind of homework sucks."

 _I would tend to agree._

Just like the amicable person that I am I suggest taking a break for her sake and not because I fear that I will be forced to give my less well-loved subjects unnecessary attention.

To my great regret she doesn't seem impressed by my lack of dedication and I consequently switch gears to another hidden ace that will allow me to delay having to deal with math.

"That last recipe you sent me was quite good, Kawasaki."

She perks up and becomes noticeably livelier.

"You tried making it?"

Her expression immediately darkens and her voice turns suspicious.

"Or did ya just make your sister cook it?"

You are hurting my feelings here, Kawasaki. While my sister was not totally uninvolved, I definitely assisted her and I have the necessary proof to support this statement.

"If you do not trust my word, I have photographic evidence."

My classmate raises one of her eyebrows in curiosity.

I take out my phone to show her the picture I took of the karaage I helped to make, the visual proof of me being near the fried chicken pieces should help to clear my name of any suspicions.

Truth to be told, it was actually Komachi who made me take a picture. She instructed me to present it to Kawasaki at some opportune moment in order to show how appreciative I was of her efforts to raise my culinary stats.

I snapped the photo without ever intending to go through the hassle of showing it to my fellow loner. To immortalize your sustenance via photographs is such a disgusting riajuu practice. It is just a sad cry for attention and every time you see it happening you ask yourself if these people just like having warm food cool down right in front of them.

Fearful of romantic comedy misinterpretations or sheer human failure I had put the phone down right between us in the middle of the table and rotated it to allow her a better perspective.

While she inspects the picture I realize how flawed my plan is. A mere photograph does not prove my involvement in the preparation but merely proves that I was at the right place at the right time.

Thus Kawasaki's conclusion manages to surprise me after she has gotten a good look at the picture.

"Sorry, man! Seems like you did help."

I did not expect her to believe so easily and out of curiosity I ask her for her rationale.

"What makes you say that?"

She points with one finger at the screen of my phone.

"The pieces of meat are too big, a girl would've cut dainty, smaller bite-sized portions."

 _Impressive deductive skills you have there, Kawasaki. Is your perpetual sleepiness perhaps a result of having been hit with one too many sleeping darts [3]?_

However the position of the phone and her leaning towards my side of the table is an action which brings her head dangerously close to my notes.

"Hey, you're already finished with the assignment?"

 _Damn, seems like we are back to slaving away at our homework._

"Pretty much."

She looks displeased although I surmise that this is more due to the fact that she is lagging behind than directed at myself.

"You wrote all the details down, highlighted the differences and similarities and had the time to make a judgment what is the better constitution?"

Her usually disinterested tone swings like a pendulum halfway between admiration and incredulity.

"Nope, just jotted the differences down, the conclusion is foregone and therefore it makes no sense to compose a lengthy answer."

Kawasaki straightens up, crossing her arms in the process.

"You're the one making no sense, whatcha doing is not what the teacher outlined."

 _I can't believe my delinquent classmate is this straight-laced._

Although it might ultimately be futile I try to defend my course of action.

"We were tasked to compare something from the past with the present. Unless you are dealing with someone very conservative you can safely assume that references to history are just used to affirm the superiority of the present."

That is a general fault of society. Everything is utilized to support the notion that the current societal status quo is generally better now than at some other point in history.

Such a trend can be even seen in popular culture. For every nuanced Wolf Brigade there are dozens upon dozens of anime that have no intention to challenge the worldview of their audience [4]. Far too often we are subjected to navel-gazing and the microcosm of a small character cast instead of the macrocosm of the society that surrounds them and even if the anime concerns itself with society then it is only about broad and general terms like peace or environmentalism.

Although given what today's audience largely consists of there is no hope that any discussion about altering society is not turned into a moe anime.

One can almost hear the gasping praise of the likes of Zaimokuza 'Hurgh, hurgh - I like Benevolent-Dictatorship-chan, she's such a tsundere and I also fawn over the kuudere that is Technocracy-chan, hurgh, hurgh, but furthermore I like the Gothic Lolita design for Monarchy-chama. Huh, you like Social-Democracy-tan, but she's a totally unimaginative dojikko [5].'

 _I might only watch the first season._

Kawasaki pulls me out of my thoughts.

"That's surprisingly dumb coming from you. It's, uh, like they say, you need to understand the past to explain the present."

My shoulders sag in response, it seems like I have to lay it out to her in more detail.

"We cannot accurately understand the distant past that is so far beyond our biographical experiences because by its very definition it is gone, especially when we are talking about historical cultural climates that are just alien to us nowadays."

Kawasaki seems even more unconvinced, maybe I should illuminate her instead of spouting sophistry.

"Look, the means, the customs, the language and the thought processes of people from different time periods are as strange for us as ours would be for them. We divide the history of Japan into different epochs from the Jomon-period to the Heisei-period because they each have a beginning and an end [6] and if they really ended, then it would be weird for us to pretend to fully understand them when we barely understand ourselves."

I try to support my point with examples.

"Our ancestors from the Edo-period would not understand the financial and economic intricacies of the Lost Decade, just like our understanding of marriage does not mesh well with the concept of marriage in the Heian-period [7]."

"M-m-marriage?"

The last one reddens the cheeks of my classmate. I far too often forget that she is actually more maiden-like than her exterior suggests although blushing at the mere mention of marriage is a little much.

 _Don't make me blush as well with your sudden and surprisingly feminine wiles!_

I rub my temples in thought as I think about a fitting analogy that would not distract her from what I want to convey.

"Each historical epoch is like a closed circle, it has a period of growth, prosperity and widespread support for its features but then at some point it ossifies and becomes unappealing until it vanishes and thus makes space for another epoch that follows it. That one is yet another circle with its own characteristics and its own life cycle of growth and decline."

This apt metaphor should suffice to make her understand. Circles are always wonderful descriptions for loners as they are closed systems themselves. In fact the circle is the ideal geometric shape for representing the true loner who feels secure in his status and is autarkic from the trappings of his environment.

My conversation partner still does not look appreciative of my explanation. She plays with her bangs, perhaps to collect herself a little bit.

Eventually Kawasaki slowly shakes her head in a defeated manner.

"Still sounds idiotic."

She props her chin up with one hand as she makes a lazy gesture with the other one.

"No man's an island. To say that eras are a collection of circles means you're, uh, forgetting that cause and effect link all of them. It's like how, ehm, genetics from the earliest humans connect to us. That alone means that history isn't a circle but more of a straight line from past to present."

 _What is with your oddly pleased tone with this analogy? And 'No man is an island'? Were you even awake in loner-bootcamp?_

To be fair, I think she can be excused due to her being such a family-con but that is so typically Kawasaki - she immediately points towards the most straight-laced element there is - causality.

"I did not say there is no cause and effect. In fact, your visualization of history and mine are perfectly compatible."

She bites her lower lip in a doubtful manner and pretends to shuffle some of her own notes around.

"S-so you're saying we're c-c-c-compatible? How so?"

 _Yes, I did say that our views on this particular subject would compliment each other. Are you hard of hearing?_

"Easy, imagine history as a chain of interlocked circles that represent eras and you have both."

After a moment of silence the corners of her mouth momentarily twitch upwards, it seems that I have gotten through to her.

She looks down at her own notes and closes her history textbook.

"Alright, smartass, enough of making my head spin with your history talk. Let me return the favor by skipping history and getting straight to our math homework."

 _What have I gotten myself into?_

* * *

Walking to the clubroom has almost become a ritual. I gauge how much talking there will be between Yuigahama and her friends after the last class has ended and I adjust my speed accordingly so that my fellow club member can easily catch up to me.

Having studied in the library with Kawasaki yesterday actually made it a little bit harder to slow down because I had gotten a lot more sleep on a weekday than I am accustomed to.

The more people someone gets involved with the harder it is to retain one's own pace. At some point there will be no clear border whether you move along life's path out of your own accord or if the momentum of your existence is dictated by those around you.

Our clubroom greets us with the welcoming fragrance of tea being brewed by our club president.

Before we can settle in, however, we are disturbed by the bane of this club - actual clients. One of them, a classmate of mine going by the name of Ebina Hina is even a repeat offender. I sometimes wish the usage of this club would come with a massive cooldown period like any powerful skill in a good RPG.

Following her is a small, diminutive girl. She is introduced to us as 'Nagato-chan' but because she lacks any prominently female assets that would put her into battleship category or the bookish glasses-girl look that would make her memorable I quickly forget her name [8].

"So, we're here because Nagato-chan's club faces a great crisis." Ebina explains.

My classmate does a lot of the explaining, she and the younger girl have apparently known each other since the last cultural festival when she assisted Ebina's play in a technical role because she is from the drama club. What comes as a relative surprise is the revelation that this unassuming girl is now the acting president of said drama club.

"And after that most of their senpais left the club to focus on their studies and the rest of the third-years also resigned after it became obvious that their friends were gone."

I can almost see how the anger is rising in Yukinoshita and I must add that I can understand her frustration concerning such an event to an extent. Loyalty is one of the most basic needs for a functioning society, no matter its size. The group cohesion of the third-years was, in this case, bigger than their loyalty to the younger club members and the club in general.

Thankfully, Yukinoshita is able to channel her emotions into something productive.

"What are you asking of us, then? Do you need additional people for a recruitment drive to gain more members?"

Ebina gives her acquaintance an encouraging look. But cruiser-san is making her best attempt to look small and become destroyer-san at the moment.

"Uhm, eh, I think we got enough members, s-so it's o-okay but the real issue's different."

She appears to be very apprehensive about touching the subject but Yukinoshita's icy stare has overcome tougher resistance before.

With my club president's hypnotizing gaze and Ebina's hand on her shoulder that might have originally been there to comfort her but now locks her in place, our guest has no other options but to continue to explain the situation.

"The drama club, uh, always prepares a drama for new members to get into but with our senpais gone, we have no real idea what show to put on."

That explains why she turned to Ebina for help. Having been involved in her play from last year's cultural festival must have impressed her but I hope not for all the wrong reasons.

Yuigahama interrupts her "Eh? But your senpais leaving isn't okay, that's so terrible of them"

"If I understand you correctly, Nagato-san, your club does not have a play ready for new members to become immediately involved in but how do you think we can be of assistance?"

Frigate-san is still squirming a little but gathers her courage to answer. She seems far too shy for someone who should be in a drama club. Ironically enough, that would make her perfect for a live-action adaptation of Hitohira [9].

"I, uh, we are just looking for suggestions that would help us appeal to our new members and the school in general and I , eh, wanted to ask some more experienced people."

That clues us in that the atmosphere between the remaining members and the club is really poisoned beyond hope because otherwise she would not have to turn towards strangers for help.

In the end there is nothing for us to do but to accept the request.

With Ebina escorting the acting president of the drama club back to her own club room we, as the ever dutiful members of the Service Club, are left to discuss our strategies for solving this crisis.

"Shouldn't we, like, try to get their senpais back?"

The very first suggestion is shot down by Yukinoshita without a second thought.

"That is a course of action I would advise against, Yuigahama-san. Even if we could get them to reconcile it does not solve their problem. In fact, the new members might even feel left behind if everyone concentrates on repairing the bond between the second-years and third-years."

I decide to add my own insight to Yukinoshita's argument.

"Additionally, the third-years have already shown that they do not care by not preparing the next play and deserting the club. I would not hold my breath for their potential contribution."

Yuigahama turns to look at Yukinoshita and then at me.

"So what do you guys think we should do?"

Yukinoshita raises one hand to her mouth in thought. Yuigahama crosses her arms and tries her best to get in the same mood. Yet, it is I who breaks the silence first.

"The play itself does not matter. If they desire a mere confidence boost, then we simply need to advertise whatever they decide on."

I cock my head in the direction of my two club mates.

"Yuigahama, you will bring Miura and Hayama and that in turn will guarantee Isshiki's attendance and you, Yukinoshita could discretely advertise for the play in your own class by repeatedly stating your interest and eventually visiting one performance."

Satisfied with my logic, I conclude my case.

"And with all these popular people there should be no problem having a full house."

 _I would even generously try to help by getting the lovely tennis club president to attend - heck, I would even accompany him._

My club mates seem to be far less convinced of my strategy.

"That's horrible, Hikki!"

Scratch that, they appear to be revolted.

"What did I do?"

"You're mean, you shouldn't play with Iroha-chan's feelings and exploit them."

Yuigahama flees into the open arms of Yukinoshita or at least what the former interprets as open arms while the latter dutifully accepts her fate as a hug pillow. Considering the latter's status as ice princess she would probably feel like the comfortingly cold side of a pillow despite her obvious physiognomical lack of softness.

"No matter how reprehensible Hikigaya-kun's thought processes about other people are, he does have a point with advertisement. Still, his plan does not address the immediate issue."

The Service Club president bites her lower lip in thought.

"Finding a play should not prove to be very hard. However, I regret to admit that my tastes may not overlap with the average high school student."

I see, Yukinoshita's high class heritage works against her in this particular case.

"Consequently, we should gather the people who have more knowledge about the current taste of our peers."

Hopefully, she is not talking about-?

"Yuigahama-san, see that you get Ebina-san before she leaves school."

For a minute I thought she was going to send me to get a certain someone.

"Hikigaya-kun, as much as I am surely going to regret this decision but I need you to get your delusional friend here if we want to see how to appeal to the lowest common denominator."

 _Crap!_

* * *

Yukinoshita's logic is flawless, both of them do have experience in that field, Ebina already wrote and successfully directed a play and Zaimokuza is a master of stealing popular content from others. In contrast to that, our experiences and tastes are definitely lacking.

Finding Zaimokuza proved to be easy enough because he was stalking the library as usual. Or to be more correct, he found me as he burst out from between two rows of bookshelves with a cry of 'Tis me, Zaimokuza.' on his lips.

I immediately turned around and wholly intended to leave him behind but he begged me to stay and it was so pitiful that I relented and explained why I was there.

"A shy drama club president - her gap moe power level should be off the charts." he boomed with his loud voice as I finish explaining the situation to him.

 _Thank you for providing the exact kind of proof why I do not desire to be seen in your company._

"Will you help us or not?"

"Forsooth, my comrade, you can count on the strength of my sword arm and the sharpness of my wit in your current struggle."

"Cut the stupid words."

"I m-mean, I will help. Gladly!"

 _See, that desperation on your face to be considered helpful for once fits you much better._

While we walk back to the Service Club room, Zaimokuza begins to fidget.

"What type of priestesses await me in your sacred halls, Hachiman."

I have zero tolerance for this kind of stupidity right now and I do not like to be referred to in that overly familiar kind of way.

"What are you rambling about?"

A grimace that is possibly supposed to be thoughtful overcomes Zaimokuza's facial features.

"The last time I was on you war council there was one of your female attendants present whose name I have forgotten and my code of chivalry demands to address people properly."

He can barely speak to females and every time he opens his mouth a veritable word salad falls out. I doubt that he can address anyone properly if he is incapable of doing so with someone like me who can tolerate his abnormal behavior for some time.

"Whose name have you forgotten?"

"Verily what a strange query, how can I name a person when it is her name that escapes my mind?"

You are seriously trying my patience here, Zaimokuza. Forgetting someone's name is indirectly offensive towards them because it implies that they did not leave an impression.

 _Which is the very reason why none of my fellow club members care to remember your name._

"Describe her."

"Oh, r-right. The one who bears a striking resemblance to Katō Kiyomasa. [10]"

I am afraid I do not know any bearded ladies.

"You're still unclear in your delusions."

Zaimokuza loudly clears his throat.

"The one w-with the long hair?"

"Ah, you mean Yukinoshita?"

He vehemently shakes his head in denial.

"Not her, the one with the p-polynomial figure."

 _What is that word? Is he speaking in tongues now?_

"Need I remind you that I am not as fluent in nerd speak as you are?"

Zaimokuza gulps a little and looks around him before he proceeds to answer.

"I meant to say that she's c-curvy."

What a crude thing to say about another person but it fits right up his alley.

"I get it, you are talking about Yuigahama."

"Also wrong. I meant that other girl."

Maybe Zaimokuza has missed to take his meds today, because there are no more members in the Service Club. His lapse in memory begins to worry me. Maybe his eight-grader-syndrome should finally be looked at by a professional.

He ruminates for a while before he begins anew, albeit in a smaller voice

"The one with you in the library yesterday."

I stop dead in my tracks and give Zaimokuza a long and hard look. Almost without missing a beat he gets defensive and apologetic.

"I just happened to be in library and wanted to walk by and casually greet you but didn't recall the name of your companion."

What a sad riajuu dream you were having there. Walking by and greeting someone as if you had friends and places to go. A loner only has the latter and considering that we already were in the library which is the only place you actually go to the whole scenario becomes even sadder because you wanted to roleplay as someone who has acquaintances.

Nevermind that, how could a person with Zaimokuza's frame approach us without neither my study partner, nor me noticing him?

"Did you stalk us?"

He shakes his arms around as if he was suffering from some kind of stroke. An interpretation that I should not exclude lightly considering the amount of sweat that was rolling off of him.

"I-i didn't, I just take great care to be quiet and only step on the non-creaking p-parts of the library floor."

I am honestly astonished. Every loner has their own little realm that they consider their personal sphere even if it is technically a public place like the side entrance I use to enjoy my meals and watch the occasional tennis practice. Sometimes a person can become so attuned to their place that they become intimately familiar with its smallest features.

For a long time I considered my knowledge of the wind above the tennis courts changing directions a useless skill but even that proved useful at a certain point.

Zaimokuza's skill he gained from his loner fortress of solitude is both relatively utilitarian because as a loner he is very conscious of other people but at the very same time the ability to move silently through the library is definitely creepy.

Out of the goodness of my heart I decide to be gentle with him.

"That was among the creepiest things I have ever heard in my life, you weirdo!"

Zaimokuza cringes as my words reach his ears and falls silent.

We are close to the Service Club room when I decide to speak to him again.

"The girl's name is Kawasaki and she is not in the club room because she is not a member."

I pinch the bridge of my nose in exasperation.

"Forgetting someone's name is horrible, attached to a person's name are their memories and their identity. A name is what separates you from others and not its sound or meaning but its mere possession makes you an individual."

Perhaps I should be lenient and give him a clue as to help his bad memory. I point an accusing finger at the deluded mass of sweat and nervousness before me to gain its undivided attention.

"If you forget her name again, remember your patriotic duty as a citizen of Chiba to cheer for the Chiba Lotte Marines [11]. And just try to recall that before they settled here their home was the city of Kawasaki."

Zaimokuza seems inordinately thankful for me answering his original question and not leaving him hanging.

 _What an onerous burden it is to be such a nice person like myself._

* * *

When we enter the Service Club room, it is already occupied by three girls who turn their heads towards us. Apparently, Yuigahama was successful in capturing Ebina.

Zaimokuza hesitates a bit before he sets a foot into the room but it does not take long before we are all settled down and can begin to brainstorm about the request we got earlier this day.

As the club president it is Yukinoshita's prerogative to open the discussion.

"Does anyone have any ideas on the tip of their tongue?"

Nobody really has a solution ready and as a result Yukinoshita is met with silence.

"Very well, Ebina-san, you rewrote The Little Prince into a play last year. Did you consider adapting something else beforehand?"

Ebina snaps to attention but flashes a sad smile in the direction of Sobu's ice princess.

"Sorry, I had the original vision for my play really long ago and I can't think of any good alternatives I may have considered back then."

"So you have no ideas that could help us, Hina-chan?"

Ebina quickly glances at me before she answers Yuigahama.

"Oh, I have ideas but they might not pan out."

 _I think I might need an adult over here!_

Dissatisfied with the lack of participation in the discussion Yukinoshita turns to our other guest.

"How about the cautionary tale that is your friend, Hikigaya?"

Despite her not addressing him directly everyone knows who is meant. In response Zaimokuza does the impossible and manages to sweat even more than usual. His daily fluid intake must be a sight to behold.

"I, uh, mayhaps-"

"Hikigaya-kun, please make him talk like a normal human being for once."

What am I to you, Yukinoshita? Some kind of muscle you can call upon when you need it? But I see that she is fundamentally right, we need to get to the point in order to fulfill the burden that we have been saddled with.

Noticing my thought process Zaimokuza tries to appeal to my sense of camaraderie.

"Hachiman, please be merciful! Now is the time to close ranks, stand shoulder to shoulder, man the battlements, flood the moat and pull up the drawbridge as fellow men to-"

"I'd rather throw myself into that moat, now cut to the chase, Zaimokuza!"

"Alright, a-alright. I think there w-would be no time to write an e-entirely new script."

He does have a point there. The drama club needs a play sooner rather than later and writing an entirely new script would take weeks.

Yukinoshita grasps the situation before anyone else and puts it into words.

"This spells doom for any original play and in turn means we have to look for preexisting ones. Does anyone have any suggestion?"

I slowly raise my hand.

"There was a play I read recently - Anton Chekhov's The Cherry Orchard."

Intrigued by the foreign name Yuigahama leans forward.

"What's it about, Hikki?"

"The gradual downfall of a family of nobles into destitution, it could serve as a educational tool about life's unfairness and the stubbornness of humans for the younger actors and the people in the audience."

My august idea to enlighten my school gets attacked right out of the gate from its most obvious opponent.

"While I admire your persistence in regards to making your surroundings as miserable as yourself, Hikigaya-kun I have read the same play a long time ago and I do not consider it suitable for a high school drama club. The original play was written as a comedy but played like a straight drama for its first performance - these extremely different approaches could perplex too many people and lead to confusion how to direct the play."

It should not come to me as a surprise but Yukipedia's extensive knowledge still manages to stupefy me.

Nevertheless, the point she makes is viable because as a possible consequence of a dispute how to direct the play the end result could be too mellow to kindle the imagination of the audience. With my pride partially wounded, however, I cannot suppress a little anger at having my contribution so effortlessly disregarded and I consequently make the decision to retaliate.

"So what would you consider good drama, Yukinoshita?"

She tents her fingers and gives it some serious thought.

"Anything that has high stakes could potentially be a good drama provided there are dedicated actors and a good director."

She has sprung my trap, her overly complicated yet open answer will be her downfall.

"Does that mean that a small kitten trapped in a tree and mewling for someone to come to her rescue could be a worthy drama in your eyes?"

By steering the topic towards cats Yukinoshita is obviously becoming rather livid.

"That would be a most natural drama of them all, Hikigaya-kun, but I fail to see how that relates to our problem at hand."

"You just said that anything can become a good drama if there are dedicated actors and a good director and I gave an example. Will you stand by your words and say that this scenario could make a good drama?"

"Of course I will. The idea of a small kitten mewling for help would almost certainly elicit a response from an emotionally mature audience but maybe your heartlessness prevents you from seeing that." She replies testily.

"The delicate softness of the fur would contrast with the rough texture of the tree bark, the height of the tree would bring out the cuteness inherent in a small defenseless kitten and the tree might even represent nature as a whole that the young kitten is trying to conquer in her natural curiosity. Her cries for help mixing with the rustling of leaves-"

I hold up one hand in a defensive pose.

"You have purr-suaded me, the drama club should put on a play about a kitten in a tree. I am sure it is going to be a-meow-sing."

"Hikigaya-kun, what is up with your incredibly infantile behavior?"

"Nothing is wrong with me. Did you not just say that under the right circumstances it could be meow-nificent?"

Catching my drift Ebina gives me a thumps-up.

"I agree, that idea sounded claw-some."

Yukinoshita looks to her right to receive assistance from Yuigahama to stop the onslaught of puns and like any good friend the latter happily obliges her.

"Hikki, Hina-chan, stop it, paw-lease."

It is a rare sight to behold Yukinoshita pouting like any normal girl that had received a good-natured teasing.

Although I had feared that we had shut her down for a while the Service Club president rebounded in record time and with the atmosphere lightened by our jokes we could continue our original endeavor.

"If no play directly comes to mind, how about we think what kind of genre could appeal to the student body?"

To everyone's surprise Zaimokuza is the first one to make a suggestion.

"N-not really a g-genre recommendation but c-cast Sir Totsuka as an onnagata [12]."

He receives support from the usual suspect, in this case - Ebina.

"Now that's an idea I can get behind."

 _Please do not feed into each other's delusions!_

Do not worry Totsuka, I will save you from their nefarious ideas. There is only one idolmaster in your future and that is me [13].

Thankfully Yuigahama manages to come up with her own idea.

"Uhm, what do you guys think about romance?"

The girls all look at each other and slowly nod whereas Zaimokuza and I exchange pained looks. I try to weakly deflect that terrible idea.

"Is romance not overdone? I mean that is a genre that everyone gets to see on a daily basis in TV dramas."

"Do not underestimate the power of love, Hikitani. Everyone dreams about a steamy encounter that will sweep them of their feet."

I can see that Yuigahama is barely suppressing her urge to sigh dreamily. For a moment even Zaimokuza seems sane enough to recognize what a bad idea this might be.

There is one spanner I can throw into their works before this vision of a romantic drama becomes too entrenched in their minds.

"Okay, romance could work to appeal to the audience but what about the club itself. For a romance drama to stand out the actors need to be experienced and familiar with one another."

I turn to my bespectacled classmate.

"You know the current club president. Could you find out how many of the members are inexperienced and how many of them are boys?"

Despite a dangerous glint in Ebina's eyes when I mentioned my interest in how many boys there might be in the drama club, she mails the mousy drama club president and quickly receives a reply.

The answer is rather obvious.

We come to the conclusion that too many of the new members are boys. I am even surprised myself because I would not have guessed that males make up more than over a third of the newly recruited drama club members.

The remaining members must have poured a lot of effort into recruitment because they trusted their upperclassmen to provide them with a play.

I have no particular prejudices against young boys playing theatre but these are hormonal, awkward and generally squeaky teenagers. I see few chances that they would excel at acting out a romantic drama right after joining.

Yuigahama's enthusiasm deflates.

"Oooh, we could have had them play some Shakespeare drama?"

Yukinoshita and I share a look of surprise.

"You know who Shakespeare is, Yuigahama-san?"

"Of course I do, it's the guy who gets credited with so many TV-dramas. Must be one totally hardworking writer."

 _Phew, for a moment there I was worried about Yuigahama's state of mind._

Still, the underlying idea the girls had about romance and now the mention of Shakespeare gives me an interesting theory of what might work. It is just a matter of connecting the building blocks.

"The mention of Shakespeare has given me an idea. What about Macbeth?"

While Yuigahama looks nonplussed Yukinoshita, Ebina and even Zaimokuza seriously ponder my proposal.

"Although it is rather famous play are you sure the prospect of having a villain protagonist is not dominating your judgment for self-identification purposes, Hikigaya-kun?"

I decide to ignore the jab.

"It is not an everyday tale that is for sure. It certainly is more unique than your average love story."

The Service Club president shakes her head.

"Uniqueness alone is not the appeal we are looking for. It was you who correctly pointed out that we need something to rally the drama club members behind and a battle scene at the end and several male prominent male characters are probably not enough reasons to inspire the new members and the audience."

There is something in that particular drama I am quite sure of it but I cannot yet put it into words. But before I can come up with a fitting reply to explain myself help arrives from an unexpected direction.

"Isn't t-that play a-about a-ambition, Hachiman?"

Nobody is more stunned than Zaimokuza himself about him grasping one of the key motifs of Macbeth. Luckily for him I immediately take the topic from him to make it my own and to expand upon the great point he made.

"He's right, ambition is an even more basic form of desire that almost anyone can identify with. Students are ambitious about grades, about relationships, about grasping the day and making it their own and it even fits for the drama club because they have the ambition to get out of the rut they are currently stuck in."

One by one I see the eyes of the people in front of lighting up with understanding. It seems we might have found the right drama.

* * *

It did only take few days for the drama club to invite us to their clubroom for a round of gratitude that was close to applause. Perhaps that was tied to what kind of people they were - riajuus who openly craved attention and thought that a public show of appreciation was the highest form of praise.

We could have opted for a smaller venue for them to express their feelings but there was something that I needed to do and so we ventured into the lion's den of the extrovert normies on my insistence.

We even felt that Ebina should take her bow and accept part of the adoration and thus took her along. For a moment I thought that we were forgetting someone but I banished that ridiculous notion from my mind. Zaimokuza would be too distracting for what I had planned.

Nobody should claim that I never learn from my mistakes. As opposed to my earlier modus operandi in past requests for the Service Club I asked for Yukinoshita's and Yuigahama's opinion regarding my ulterior motives.

They objected at first but in the end agreed that my point was valid and furthermore that I had the best chance to bring my plan to fruition because they were likely to be surrounded by throngs of drama club members thanking them while I would be left alone.

It was going to be a fact whether they liked it or not. It's always far easier to be grateful towards beautiful people.

Such thoughts were on my mind as I watched sloop-san slowly disengaging herself from my fellow club mates and reluctantly approaching my humble person as I was situated a medium distance away, leaning against some tables that were stacked in a corner of the room.

"Y-you shouldn't stand so far away, H-Hikigaya-senpai. Yukinoshita-senpai and Y-yuigahama-senpai repeatedly mentioned your great help and I wanted to thank you for that."

I smile a humorless smile when I hear that piece of information. Do my club mates feel the need to expressly point out my role for me to be entitled to some gratitude as well?

"I am just thinking about all this."

She seems confused.

"Uh, If you don't want to be disturbed I will make this quick - thank you very much."

"Ah, excuse my distracted state of mind, it is a sentiment that is exclusive to upperclassmen - the joy of seeing their kouhais hard at work."

I pat a place beside me, she smiles weakly at me but settles into the space I indicated. The view from our position is a sight to behold, Yukinoshita and Yuigahama and to a lesser degree even Ebina are in a circle of adoring second-years and first-years. Like islands sticking out in an ocean of attention.

The incessant chattering coming from their direction is just a cacophony of random sounds from where I am currently standing.

"To choose Macbeth as a p-play was a great idea and we're all t-thankful for your contribution, senpai."

Of course it was a good idea but it was not all about the play itself or the cohesion of the club, it was also about the way in which all of this came to pass.

As if to chase any distraction from my mind I make a short shooing motion with my right hand.

"At the end of it all Macbeth is an usurper and gets killed."

I tear my eyes away from my club mates and look at the face of the smaller girl beside me to impart my wisdom into her and to see her reaction to my words.

"It's never brought up if he did a good job, the base idea is that he took something into his hands that isn't his and at the end what he stole is returned to the rightful owner."

A sigh escapes my lips.

"The question remains open whether the rightful owner can define his legitimacy by himself or if he has to point to the usurper to justify his own newfound position."

I look back to my club mates.

"It goes without saying that one of the most important new policies should be to ensure that no new usurper can surface."

This will be the defining question. Will she, representing her club as its eldest remaining member, shrink into a rowboat-san and continue the idea that the senpais should prepare something for the younger generations or if she can grow into a good battleship-san and learn not to rely on others and fend for herself.

She and the club now know how it is to feel headless and lost and despite celebrating us they should be made acutely aware of the fact that the institution that is the Service Club will not be around for the next year to help anyone out.

One can only hope she takes it to heart and the drama club itself gets better as a result of it.

All that is left is to get out of the drama club room but my own club president and her bimbo mascot are still being celebrated and assaulted with inane questions about themselves, the school, how they got the idea for choosing this play and if they will attend one of the performances.

A very silent and hopefully thoughtful kouhai named Nagato leaves my side and I am once again left to my own devices.

Before I can decide whether to go away or stay someone familiar enters my field of vision.

"Whatcha doing here?"

 _Is it weird to be relieved to see a girl who seems like she could not care less?_

"I could ask you the same, Kawasaki."

She makes a few steps towards me and waves a small notebook around.

"Ebina's conscripted me for some costume design."

A familiar brand of peppermint gum smell invades my nostrils. Designing costumes is probably stressful work.

"Ah, and that is your idea book?"

"Yep, had it for years."

Her words make me pause for a second. The information she has just carelessly blurted out means that she already had this during the last year.

In essence, this small notebook could hold the answers to the meaning of life, the universe and everything [14].

Or at the very least it should contain information about the female body that all men my age try to be privy to. Considering her role in the sport festival these unassuming pages could even contain some definite insights about my club mates.

I should not be curious about this but I can't tear my eyes away from this potential treasure trove.

"Ebina told me you guys helped but I didn't think you would leave your clubroom."

"Well, we wanted to see how the drama club was doing."

"Couldn't you guys not just wait for a real performance?"

From her point of view that might be viable but she does not need to know about the rather serious message that we wanted to convey. We might not have been listened to at all at some later date because the drama club would have been too busy.

I smile in my usual self-depreciating way.

"Do I look like the guy who would go to a theater play?"

Kawasaki shrugs her shoulders.

"If ya don't like crowds, you could go for one of the later rehearsals they do."

She gives me one of her lazy and almost ironic half-smiles.

"They owe you that much at least and it would be an afternoon outside of your clubroom."

The Service Club's room is not exactly a bad place to spend some hours but the prospect of one afternoon living the great sedentary life and not having to fear that a request will interrupt me sounds very appealing for a change.

Furthermore, a rehearsal shortly before the great premiere is a sensible choice, the actors would be more secure with their lines and their delivery, they would be in costume and most of the technical issues concerning lighting or similar stuff should be sorted out.

And the lack of even more riajuus as opposed to a real perfromance in front of an audience would be delightful.

"What about yourself, does a costume designer even desire to see their work on stage?"

"Eh, I get to see my work closer than anyone else and I'm probably just gonna get called in when something gets a tear or doesn't fit anymore."

She blows a strand of hair that irritates her out of her field of vision.

"So, I'm hopefully no longer needed by the time they go on the stage for serious."

So Kawasaki is also only limited to rehearsals at the most. But whereas it is strictly a preference for privacy on my side, it is a matter of getting the work done she has been roped into performing.

"It seems like the rehearsals are the way to go for the likes of us then."

My fellow loner seems very surprised.

"You'd w-wanna go?"

"I would not mind."

Surprise, disbelief and elation all ripple across Kawasaki's face in close succession as if she had been gifted with something she did not expect. Suddenly she is as giddy as a schoolgirl, which come to think of, she actually is.

"G-g-great. Alright, I'm gonna look out for one of the later rehearsals and tell you the d-d-date and time for us to meet."

I have the distinct feeling I did just agree to something I was not entirely focused on. Personally, I blame the small notebook in Kawasaki's hand. While I took great care not to let my eyes linger on it too much for the duration of this conversation I never let it out of my peripheral vision.

But no matter how careful I was I got caught.

To my astonishment Kawasaki seems to more amused than angry or even perturbed.

She traces the surface of her notebook with her long fingers.

"Ya interested in this?"

The easy option would be to lie but since she has already caught me off-guard it is far safer to mask myself with a half-truth.

 _And in some really unsavory way I am definitely interested._

"I have never seen something like a design document for that sort of thing."

"Well, I'm gonna owe ya for going to a drama rehearsal with me eventually, so let's just get this over with."

She flips through the pages of her notebook before she is apparently satisfied with what she sees on some random page at the end of her book near a bookmark.

Totally unexpectedly she turns the book around and with her fingers covering the upper half of one page practically shoves it in my face.

It is full of handwriting.

 _Kawasaki's handwriting, to be precise._

What else did I brace myself for, I wonder? There are notes about materials, some are circled, some are punctuated by a question mark and others are crossed out. There are addresses of stores and tables of prices associated with them.

The whole two pages I can see are cluttered and seem to be written in haste.

To say it is massively underwhelming is an understatement. Kawasaki has measured all kinds of girls and I was expecting to see some of that if I ever got my hands on that notebook or perhaps even bra sizes. Now I am awash with disappointment.

Reality simply cannot compete with fantasy, youth has once again betrayed me.

To retain my self-respect as a mature individual I try to hide my displeasure.

"Oh that is different from what I expected but still interesting."

I should be thankful for Kawasaki to remind me of how boring the real world is instead of the rose-colored lens that is youth.

Despite my bravery my eyes are dulled by disenchantment and noticing this my fellow loner decides to take pity on me.

"Expected something different, did ya?"

I try to feign confusion and I hope it does not come across as embarrassment because she got wind of my ulterior motives.

"Boys." She mutters in a darkly amused tone.

However, her voice gets a little bit softer as she flips once again through her book.

"Still, it shouldn't be so bad if it's y-y-you."

I have no idea what kind of flag I raised there and I am not exactly eager to find out but my curiosity wins out in the end.

Kawasaki's face lights up as she finds what she was looking for. This time she takes longer to turn the notebook around. It seems to be an older part of the book, closer to the middle, because the handwriting is slightly more messy and the information is significantly more disorganized than the earlier pages she showed me.

The particular page she is trying to make me read appears to be a lot less recent as it is closer to the front page of her idea book.

However, just as I am about to lose interest a second time, my sore eyes spot something beneath Kawasaki's fingers. The way she has been holding the book may cover some parts but not all and I am rewarded for my diligent search. Just beneath her fingernails, as if she has been pointing towards it, is the big haul.

Pairs of numbers, three of them to be exact, 6 digits in total, all cleanly separated by hyphens. I think I should start to salivate at the sight of this and lose myself in this discovery.

But to my own surprise I do not.

At the end of the day, these numbers are nothing without proper context. I am now in the possession of the measurements of some unknown person. There is no face, no personality attached to this, nothing that promises affection or personality.

It is a mathematical formula and someone who is not as challenged as I am in this field could perhaps decipher who is represented by these six digits.

There is only one fact I am relatively sure of and that is that this person is closer to a grown human than a child.

Despite this solid lead these numbers in their current form are just uselessly trivial facts. I know what each number represent just like I know about the body-mass-index or waist-to-hip-ratio but I lack the imagination to recreate the described person in my mind.

Kawasaki's hand probably blocks the information that could help me identify who this is.

All that that lies within my power is to analyze the value of the numbers in themselves but that is like people comparing the stats on their items in a RPG. In the end the pure numerical value decides how good a particular item is.

Yet, in this case the proportions of these numbers should be taken into account.

My head gets dizzy.

 _Lesson of the day: Math can even ruin the magic allure of the female body._

So that is why she was comfortable with showing me this. She is aware of my less-than-stellar skills when it comes to performing calculations and understanding geometry and is mocking me.

On the other hand, perhaps, she is trying to teach me something that I did not want but perhaps need to understand in some way.

I think it was still a great risk but Kawasaki is the kind of girl to just go through with this kind of stuff. It makes sense for someone who runs around her own house naked after a bath and does not mind people getting a peek at her underwear to be this nonchalant about the human body.

All that is left for me is to hope that these numbers really were those of a girl and not her practicing expanding her proficiency with her measuring tape on her brother although it seems likely with her brother-con tendencies.

The mere possibility of having his body proportions burned into my mind makes me want to retch and I briefly consider to tear out my soiled retinas.

It is no wonder that the words 'lust' and 'disgust' rhyme. An involuntary shudder overtakes me to rid myself of several disturbing mental images.

"Like what ya see?"

Kawasaki shuts her idea book and looks at me expectantly with upturned eyes.

Since she did teach me a lesson in her roundabout way I should congratulate her on schooling me in the way of the loners who are not blinded by the empty promises of youth. I try to be serious for a change.

"You showed me something I will hopefully not forget during my lifetime."

Seemingly unused to these kinds of compliments the cheeks of my classmate redden in instant. She tries to look around for a point to focus on and has to clear her throat several times before she can reply while her hands frantically caress her idea book.

"T-t-that's n-no big -"

We are interrupted by one very obnoxious person hollering at us.

"Yo, Saki-Saki, Hikitani. What are you both standing around in this corner if there are cute first-years around you could mingle with?"

You do know that a lot of these young first-years are boys in this club? Or as rightly fear you are maybe even more conscious of that fact than anyone else around.

My bespectacled classmate walks up to us.

"You both are helping them and should reap your rewards."

These words might sound innocent enough on paper but I do not like the tone of her voice. With a dangerous gleam in her eyes she looks at me as if I am an especially delicious treat.

"All these young, poor souls are diamonds in the rough who need to get to know some gruff senpais with a few sharp edges to broaden their horizons and become polished gems in the process."

Kawasaki is the first to get her bearings, probably because she has an actual friendly relationship with Ebina and is used to her antics.

"Who're ya call-"

Before I can begin to voice my own protest Ebina's iron grip has closed around the hem of my shirt's sleeve and a similar thing happens to Kawasaki. I can only hope that the distress on my face is not greater than hers.

Maybe Ebina's underlying motive is just trying to integrate Kawasaki and myself and to relieve Yukinoshita and Yuigahama of all the attention they receive.

They both look tired in the midst of all these people and I know how fragile Yukinoshita's constitution is or how unused Yuigahama is to getting some attention because she is far too often overlooked in favor of the company she keeps.

But at the moment it feels as if I am being led with heavy steps like some sacrifical lamb to be slaughtered on the repulsive altar that is BL.

While I am mentally preparing myself to be thrown to the barely adolescent wolves who would rather talk more with their cute female upperclassmen my last thought goes out to my sister.

 _I bequeath everything I own to my cute, bratty sister. Should he be unable to be buried with me, please let her marry Totsuka in my stead._

* * *

[1] Metal Gear Solid series gameplay mechanics reference.

[2] Parents usually also attend school entrance ceremonies and are encouraged to join the PTA (Parent-Teacher-Association) at the end.

[3] Sleeping darts an important tool for the main protagonist of the detective mange 'Case Closed'.

[4] 'Jin-Roh The Wolf Brigade' is an anime that is set in a totalitarian world without espousing an overtly anti-totalitarian message.

[5] These are all moe archetypes: Tsundere - a character who alternates between being sweet and aggressive. Kuudere - a character who is generally cold and pragmatic but has a hidden sweet side. Dojikko - a cute, clumsy girl.

[6] The Jomon-period is the oldest period of Japanese history, the Heisei-period is the current era in Japan.

[7] The Edo-period is the one from the ending the Warring-States-Era to the forceful opening of Japan. The 'Lost Decade' is how the Japanese call the depression that Japan is suffering from since the 1990s. The Heian-period allowed for men to effectively practice polygamy.

[8] 'Nagato' is the name of an IJN battleship and also the name of one of the central characters of the Haruhi Suzumiya series.

[9] 'Hitohira' is a manga/anime about a shy girl enrolling in a drama club.

[10] Katō Kiyomasa was a very militaristic Japanese general who bears an uncommonly bushy beard in historical portraits.

[11] The local baseball team of Chiba City.

[12] An 'onnagata' is a male playing a female role in traditional Japanese theatre.

[13] 'THE iDOLMaSTER' (actually written with an at-sign instead of an a) is a Japanese videogame where you raise idols as the eponymous idolmaster who is their manager.

[14] One of the most famous lines of 'The Hitchhiker's Guide for the Galaxy'.

 **Author's Note:**

Goals for this chapter:

Show more sides of Kawasaki and of her currently friendly relationship with Hikigaya. Have a good old-fashioned request for the Service Club with Zaimokuza and Ebina helping out and showing that people outside of the Service Club have a life of their own. Last but not least, include some more humor before I get to focus on a little bit of drama in the upcoming chapters.

First of all, I am somewhat sorry for all the pseudo-intellectual talk about history but I hope it felt in-character and was entertaining.

The last chapter revealed that there were some misunderstandings concerning the chronology of this story and I take full responsibility as an amateur author. I hope I can clear that up by renaming the chapter into something that has a thematic relation to the title of this story and serves to highlight in what sequence the chapters are to be understood.

The first chapter will be renamed: Step: 91,045

The second chapter will be renamed: Step: 47,298

The third chapter will be renamed: Step: 59,391

The fourth chapter (this one) will be named: Step 63,674

That means that the first chapter should be seen as something that awaits our protagonists in the future as they are nearing the end of their third year in high school. The second chapter is set at the end of the second year (during volume 11), the third one at some undefined point between the end and the beginning of the school year in Japan and the fourth one is squarely set at the beginning of the third year.

I do not want to sound more clever than I actually am with these chapter names. I recognize the need for a clear chronology but on a journey of a thousand miles not every step needs to be shown, hence the peculiar naming convention. In my opinion, every little moment could count as a singular step - an errant thought about the other person, a single glance in their direction, that peculiar inflection in a human's voice when they talk to someone who is special to them - all these are steps to me but they do not warrant to be shown in detail so that I can concentrate on more significant developments.

Once again please feel free to be frank with your criticism - it helps to keep my inner Zaimokuza in check.


	5. Step: 75,024

Standard Disclaimer: I don't own Oregairu and I do not make money publishing this story.

* * *

 **A Journey Of A Thousand Miles**

* * *

 **AN:** A word of warning - this chapter was released as a kind of double feature together with the sixth chapter because I have to rush these updates due to an upcoming hiatus. So make sure you read these chapters in the right order.

"So, you're not her older brother but her sister's boyfriend?"

Why is that the first conclusion anyone jumps to? Is it so hard to believe that I was asked to pick up my classmate's little sister, who I had the honor of babysitting before in order to bring her here? I can understand that faculty want to make sure who is visiting their school grounds but from Keika's age it should be obvious that we are here because she could be a potential future student of this school.

Kawasaki had approached me with the request that I pick up her sister while she was rushing home to get into a more respectable civilian attire because a nearby elementary was opening its gates to show off what a wonderful institution it is.

It is totally uncommon for a school to have such a day at the end of April and not at the end of the school year and it makes me wonder if the school staff had some ulterior motive. Perhaps they were in need of parents helping out and wanted to see who was visiting to see how their offspring had adjusted so far?

I quickly answered the question in the negative for what must have been the tenth time. Although I had my school blazer folded over my arm to conceal the fact that I came straight from another school, my age still made me stick out like a sore thumb.

To my great relief the fact that Keika was tightly clinging to me probably disposed some of the suspicion that I might be here for more unsavory purposes.

With her elder sister nowhere in sight all I could do was just to stand around and wait for her to show up and to look after Keika to ensure that she made a good impression. Judging from her outfit the Kawasaki family is seriously considering having her attend this school next year. Compared to her usual kindergarten attire she was decked out in a frilly white blouse, a navy-blue skirt with suspenders and her little pigtails even sported some hair ornaments.

In short, she is grade A little sister material at the moment. To my great chagrin, however, that meant that the usual type of nosy and allegedly helpful people - teachers, parents and the occasional grandparents were trying their best to approach her and me to make us feel welcome.

We are waiting at the entrance to the main building to ensure that Kawasaki would see us while all around us parents and teachers are chatting away and a few random elementary schoolchildren are roaming the halls.

It takes me a few seconds to notice that one woman who is entering the school grounds looks quite familiar.

If I had never seen Kawasaki working at the Angel Ladder Bar I could have sworn that this person might be her older sister and considering how large her family seems to be it could have even been a reasonable estimate. Clad in a short black skirt and a black vest over a non-descript white blouse she practically exudes an adult atmosphere.

With her height, scariness and single-mindedness she could easily pass for Iwaya Sumire [1].

No wonder that people assume Kawasaki to be a few years older in these clothes. She could pass as a young looking office lady or a very serious college student, she definitely has the tired eyes that are common to both phenotypes and the disregard for any kind of makeup that would make her seem playful.

Personally, I never understood the need for makeup because I experienced firsthand how easily foolish boys fall in love. Why would anyone go through all that hassle if boys are impressed by the simplest of gestures? My own pet theory was that makeup is most often used to impress other women like some sort of war paint for females who are fighting among each other for the pointless achievement of looking slightly better.

The pointlessness is only exacerbated by the fact that there is too much additional competition because of the people who just sparkle naturally.

 _Source: Hours spent observing Totsuka._

However, all pretensions of sobriety or decorum fly out the window when Kawasaki spots us and prepares herself to put her arms around her younger sister.

No matter how sophisticated Ikarus is, he is no match against the blinding radiance of the hot sun. That is how Keika is to Kawasaki, the latter simply melts into an overly fuzzy and protective parent figure as soon as the former is in her proximity.

Once again the siblings are reenacting the scene of a couple who has not met in years but still love each other dearly. It would be really heartwarming to witness if it was not so disgustingly reminiscent of rom-coms.

Every part of Keika is lovingly caressed by her older sister. It's like her little sister is a precious commodity that must never incur any damages. That is sentiment I can very much support being an older sibling myself.

As it stands, this domesticated version of Kawasaki is far superior than her bro-con one.

 _Maybe we should put some DNA from her sister and mine into some resin to let some future scientists clone the perfect little sister and open a park full of little sisters to amaze the world._

The younger sibling is the first one to let go of the embrace. With the remarkable seriousness that is sometimes inherent to small children she admonishes her older sister.

"You need to greet Haa-chan, too."

Kawasaki tears herself away from the cute girl in her arms to regard me with unusually soft eyes.

 _Are you so intoxicated by your sister that you cannot even control your facial features anymore, woman?_

"Hey Hikigaya, thanks for picking up Kei-chan."

I am not really used to being thanked so earnestly and caught off guard by the affectionate tone of her voice I try to downplay my help seeing as it was not a great inconvenience to me.

"Greetings, Kawasaki and p-please do not mention it."

She nods slightly and we both would leave it at that were it not for her younger sister standing between us who is simultaneously pulling on Kawasaki's skirt and one of my pant legs.

"You can also hug Haa-chan, Haa-chan told Keika he doesn't mind."

To explain myself - I never said it that way. It is true, however, that I allowed Keika to hug one of my legs after we had entered the school grounds and were approached by several people. Or to be even more precise I simply let it happen and gave my agreement after she had already established herself in the right location that granted her a place in my shadow thus shielding her from the sun and protection against strangers.

It is nice of Keika to attempt to share me with her sister but I am not an inanimate object like a toy or even a particularly popular playmate who is liked by all his classmates and thus needs to interact with everyone present on the playground.

The simplicity of a child's worldview both fascinates and repulses me.

Kawasaki has simply shut down after hearing what her beloved sister just said.

"Ehm, ..., well-"

Her eyes are feverishly looking at me for help.

Although at a loss for words myself, I try to extricate myself from this delicate situation by leveling with Keika. Locking eyes with Kawasaki at this opportunity would only invite even more awkwardness and just add to my already flustered state.

"Well, uhm, Keika, I let you hug me because you're a special case."

Being hugged by a young child has far more innocent implications after all than what she is asking for.

Confusion shining from her big eyes Keika tries to follow my logic.

"Is Saa-chan not special?"

 _Critical hit._

Did this girl take secret lessons from Yukinoshita or why is she able to use my words so easily against me? I swear that too many females in my life are just too happy to let me dig my own grave with every embarrassment they cause me.

Judging from her obvious silence Kawasaki has completely shut down and is reduced to a stammering mass of nervousness. She easily breaks under pressure and correcting Keika's misconceptions regarding such a delicate topic definitely constitutes as massive pressure.

Two sides wage a short war in my mind because I need to correct Keika but I also need to avoid angering her older sister by making my denial too strong or confusing the younger Kawasaki sibling by implying that I did not like my classmate.

I decide to settle on a compromise.

"You see, uhm, your sister is special, albeit in a different way."

The younger Kawasaki sibling opens her mouth a little as if she wanted to ask further questions but to my eternal gratitude she just nods in understanding.

The crisis appears to have been averted.

Judging from how morbidly red Kawasaki's face is she would have been unable to adequately meet her little sister's questions anyway. I have performed well today if I may say so.

"I, uh, well-"

I hold up one hand to silence her jumbled words.

"It is okay. I understand."

My fellow loner visibly deflates with a big sigh. With a face that is still a flushed she tries to steer the conversation away from what just happened.

"Uh, well, so much for that. Hikigaya, I just got the info about the date for the big rehearsal before Golden Week, so I'll mail it to you this evening if that's okay?"

 _I had almost forgotten about our appointment._

"You do that!"

With all our business concluded we part ways. Still a little embarrassed about the lack of tact that her little sister displayed my classmate hurriedly bids me adieu and begins to mingle with the crowd, most likely in hope of finding a teacher who can show Keika and her around.

* * *

With my good deed for the month done I turn and walk towards the outer gate for the school grounds when a person steps into my path.

"... Hello."

It seems like Tsurumi Rumi has not given up on her habit of staring at people before saying what is on her mind in a voice that was far too calm for an elementary school student.

Despite my surprise or perhaps exactly because of it I blurt out the most obvious about this situation after hastily beginning with an unimaginative greeting.

"Yo! So, is this is your school, Rumi?"

She answers my question with a solemn nod.

"... the ponytail, is she your girlfriend?"

This is the eleventh time I was asked about my relationship status with a girl on this day. It gets surprisingly old in a surprisingly quick manner. My exasperation begins to bubble to the surface.

"What gave you that idea?"

She gives me an undecipherable look.

"... Then the small one?"

Who do I look like? Hikaru Genji [2]?

"You should work on your repertoire, Rumi."

 _If Rumi-Rumi still wants to apply for the position of an idol, then she should acquire more appropriate humor._

I inhale deeply in order to not betray my frustration.

"They are sisters and the older one is from my class and they are taking advantage of this visitation day to scout your school and to see if is suitable for them."

She nods curtly but her eyes remain on steadfastly glued to mine. A fair amount of seconds pass while I am wondering what is going on in her head.

".. Are you free?"

Is she still asking about my relationship status or is that only about my time? Giving her the benefit of the doubt I should assume the latter.

"... I have something I want to ask you, please follow me."

Her request is not exactly a great bother to me and seeing how I want to know how she is doing I decide to humor her.

Rumi leads me into the school and from there into one of the classrooms, I leave the door open so that no one suspects that anything strange is going on between us as she leans against one of the tables, presumably her own, and gives me an expectant look.

Something has been bothering me while I trailed her.

"Why are you here, exactly? Do not tell me you had to change schools and you are here with your parents because they want to see how you have adjusted?"

I sincerely hope that my fears are unfounded, she was doing so well in the Christmas event we helped to organize last year and I had the distinct impression that we really helped her to put her on the path of eradicating the cause of her suffering instead of just treating the symptoms.

"... The school wanted club members to represent the extra-curricular activities that are offered here."

Geez, Rumi - it should not come to anyone's surprise that you struggle to make friends if that is the vocabulary you choose to employ in everyday conversations. Most people find young schoolkids creepy if they appear too smart and collected.

 _To be fair, once you have passed a certain intelligence threshold everyone will be afraid of you. It is an allergic reaction of society that inevitably excludes those farthest away from the average IQ. But by then, these cruel circumstances may even be helpful because the power of your intellect will be developed to a point that will allow you to cope with your extraordinary position._

"Wait, you are in a club?"

She gives me a sincere nod.

"... The drama club."

I would not have expected that. But in a strange way it all makes sense. She experienced popularity and acceptance for the first time due to her role in the Christmas event and the play we had the elementary students perform. It is a natural reaction of living beings to seek out stimuli and therefore it was a rational decision for her to join her school's drama club to recreate her success.

Additionally, as much at it pains me to rescind my opinions I should at least admit that participating as an actor in a theater troupe can prepare someone for real social interactions. Not that the language and portrayed scenarios will always reflect reality but rather in the sense that it trains you to think on the fly and consider different points of view.

It is far superior to be prepared for social interaction via simulated experiences rather than min-maxing all your loner points into a delinquent aura like a certain someone I know.

"... What was the name of your middle school?"

One of my eyebrows creeps upwards but I answer her on the off-chance that she will explain what she is going for. My middle school was very unremarkable and I have no reason to hide its name since by now all the people who could have known of my horrible exploits will be long gone and so I share this trivial piece of information with her.

She immediately asks a follow-up question.

"... How good is that school's drama club?"

"Do I look like someone who was interested in that kind of stuff during middle school?"

Rumi regards me with an annoyed expression.

"... You're useless, Hachiman."

 _Excuse me?_

You are the one who initiated this conversation knowing what type of person I am. If anything here is useless, then it should be your ability to plan out a conversation.

Luckily for her, before I can point out how utterly absurd her expectations of me are we are interrupted by a loud voice.

"Haa-chan?"

Keika is suddenly standing in the doorway and is rapidly joined by Kawasaki whose curiosity has been piqued by the unexpected outcry of her sister.

The younger sibling casually strolls into the room. When she lays eyes on Rumi she pulls on her sister's skirt to make my fellow loner kneel and level with her.

In the curious manner of children everywhere she then proceeds to whisper into Kawasaki's ear with a volume that makes her words audible for all of us in this quiet elementary school classroom.

"She's beautiful."

For further emphasis Keika then obviously looks at Rumi who weathers the sudden inquisitiveness in regards to her person quite nicely.

"Sorry for disturbing you both, we were looking for a bathroom for Kei-chan."

Overcome by a sudden urge to be helpful probably because that was her original reason why she stayed in school today Rumi volunteers.

"... I can show you."

Kawasaki seems very relieved to hear that.

"Really? That's very kind of you."

"... Do not mention it."

Rumi leads an awestruck Keika out of the room in a procession that is quite reminiscent of a mother hen who is leading a young chick.

Kawasaki peers out of the classroom to look after them until they are out of her sight.

"Always with the cool black-haired ones." She mutters under her breath when she returns from the doorframe.

I cough lightly.

"Care to repeat yourself?"

Kawasaki flashes me a nervous smile.

"Ah, was just wondering if that elementary schoolkid's your girlfriend."

Something snaps inside me and the inflection of my voice turns sour as I let my frustration loose.

"I have heard something similar a dozen times today and it never got any funnier."

Since Kawasaki is quick to relent in the face of pressure she immediately apologizes.

"Sheesh, alright I'm sorry."

Despite being still a little bit miffed I do not want to draw this out and make a peace offering.

"It's okay it's not like people like us get to practice their humor that often."

That came across a little harsh but it is true. Loners practice their humor mostly on themselves which is why a lot of it consists of self-irony. However, it is a vicious cycle if the loner reveals this kind of humor to the world because he is either seen as weak-willed or demeaning towards others.

I try to explain to Kawasaki why I am here. It takes a while to convince her that I know Rumi and that I wanted to check how she was faring.

"And did ya find out if she's doing fine?"

I shake my head in response.

"Not really but I have my methods."

I point at the paper decorations in the window representing springtime - flower petals, trees and bright yellow sunrays.

"She made some of the decorations for the Christmas play. I would probably recognize how careful she is when it comes to making smooth edges. "

Several steps take me to the windows and I soon find what I am searching for. To be completely honest, I am also tipped off by its abnormal spacing.

Beautifying your classroom in elementary school tends to clustering. Children work in tandem with their friends, they choose colors and shapes that fit to the tastes of the people they like and then they prefer to hang their decorations up close to their friends because they want to impress them or simply use the chance to talk to them.

That is why there are smaller and bigger clusters, they all correspond to different cliques of different sizes and the few people, who are neutral and on friendly terms with several groups and as such produce a lot of subpar decoration compared to others, hang their stuff all over the place to stay in the good graces of their friends.

The teacher usually interferes to guarantee that the clustering will not go out of hand and that the whole window will be covered in the artistic rendition of that particular season from his class.

However, the discerning eye can still spot these clusters and estimating that Rumi will likely not be at the center of her classmates' art projects I begin to look for the outliers.

After a short while I think I have found her work and I am pleased to note that there are several other pieces that are surrounding hers.

When I was in elementary school my contribution to decorations almost always produced symmetry. Not that I was particularly gifted, it was more of a curious case of all the surrounding art pieces being equidistant to mine.

I measured it with a ruler after school for several seasons and was proud that my classmates managed to keep their distance from me with such precision. Perhaps I was under the illusion that they wanted my paper snowflakes or autumn leaves to stand out.

 _As I said before, I was a pretty pathetic kid._

While I explain my observation to Kawasaki begins to fidget a little. It seems like the prolonged absence of her little sister is causing her distress. To distract herself she begins a pointless conversation with me.

"That explains why you're here but what did she want from you?"

I shrug my shoulders and click my tongue.

"Advice for the future."

"The future?"

"Yes she wanted to know about my middle school and if it was any good."

My classmate wrinkles her forehead and sighs.

"Yeah, I can understand that, right now I always think about Kei-chan and what school might be best for her."

With an undecipherable look at me she adds "And it's not like w-we're free from worries, either."

"What do you mean?"

Kawasaki looks at me with a confused expression.

"Aren't you worried about your career choice? What university to attend and all that?"

I make a dismissive gesture with my hand.

"I am going to end up as a stay-at-home father anyway."

That answer does not satisfy my straight-laced delinquent classmate.

"Still that idiotic dream? You could achieve a lot with your grades."

Out of subconscious frustration I cross my arms.

"You know that my good grades are only in particular fields."

She nods towards the windows of the classroom.

"You are obviously i-intelligent if you can deduce so much and I wouldn't study with you if you'd be stupid."

"Being an adequate study partner does not mean anything. Despite what you may think I make a poor teacher."

"But you gotta have to think about having a stable income and job security, right? I bet with some effort you could even land a national university and land a cushy bureaucrat job. They never fire those guys."

Me being a civil servant? That would be like entering from the rom-com hell that is high school right into another place where I am assailed on all sides with strange people who have absurd names, are brilliant but lazy or have some weird relationship with their sister [3].

Her line of questioning is starting to get annoying. If I desired to have such inquiries about my plans discussed in detail I would talk to my father who had recently started to nag me about universities and career choices.

"And what would you do? What is Kawasaki Saki's future career choice given that she is so worried about a profession that provides her with a stable income and is secure in this economy?"

My classmate blinks twice.

"Something that pays the bills and has got job security?"

I nod.

"Yes, handing out career advice for others means that you must have thought about your own future, right?"

"Something that people pay good money for and always want?"

I nod again although it is slowly dawning on me that she might be stalling for time because has no right answer like me and her ideas about what I could do were idle conversation.

Without a single twitch betraying any emotion she finally replies.

"That are easy requirements, Hikigaya. I'll just specialize in tax evasion."

For a what seems like an eternity I stare at her dumbfounded. Then my mouth starts to twitch, then my sides and soon I am out of breath because I am laughing so hard.

She got me good this time.

 _Maybe her humor is still salvageable._

A small mischievous smile adorns her face and a grin is plastered across mine.

Right at this time Rumi and Keika come back. They appear to have warmed up to each other or to be more honest Keika has become very clingy towards her new acquaintance.

The younger Kawasaki sibling wastes no time to explain her adventures to her elder sister.

"We went by the music room and they've got a really biiiig piano and everything's huuuge."

For a moment the contrast between these two young girls them reminds me of two people I know. The difference in bubbliness and calm demeanor, the long straight hair compared to someone with a more elaborate hairstyle and not to mention the very audible difference concerning the volume of their voices - it is as if I am staring at a proto-Yukinoshita and a mini-Yuigahama.

The difference in their current cognitive abilities and education level only makes it more obvious in my eyes.

Rumi wordlessly hands me a paper that she must have picked up on the way. It is a schedule of the coming performances of her drama club. She obviously wants me to attend one of these.

The flyer is featuring a cutely drawn cat on a tree in the right uppermost corner.

 _I am so going to show this to Yukinoshita._

* * *

 _Winter has turned into spring and the heavy atmosphere of our Valentine's Day trip has almost vanished like snow in the sun._

 _Yukinon is still struggling to adjust to having to live with her older sister._

 _Now she often comes over to study with me._

 _I know it's an excuse for her to be away from her apartment but since I expressed some interest in Pan-san she sometimes even comes over to watch a movie together with me to reward me if I am especially attentive._

 _In the beginning, Haruno often called me our landline to ask if Yukinon was really there and then would always say something like 'Ah, how boring.' before politely ending the conversation._

 _My mom is impressed that I could have such a smart and refined young lady as a friend and could not wait to embarrass me by showing off my baby photos or all the different hairstyles that I went through._

 _Yukinon is also making progress with Sable. In the evening when he's spent and has or more energy and just lies there on his pillow she sometimes tries to pet him and softly strokes his fur as if she was made of glass and could break at any moment._

 _In contrast to her Hikki has somewhat retreated from our lives. I guess that he was overwhelmed by the things that happened at the end of the last school year and needed time for himself._

 _A lot of people have been making progress. Yumiko was really clever about White Day [4]. Immediately after Valentine's Day she began to read books about flowers in class and was rewarded for her efforts by Hayato when he presented her with some pressed flowers._

 _I am sure he has also given something to Iroha but made sure that no one was witnessing him._

 _Yumiko was so moved that she still occasionally reads articles and magazines about flowers._

 _Hikki also got both Yukinon and me something on White Day, he brought some assorted snacks with him to the clubroom. I am positive that his sister set him up for that but I am thankful that he went through with it regardless._

 _But I'm a teeny bit annoyed at how slow we are moving along. We haven't even hit the town together as the Service Club during the break between school years._

 _Luckily Ebina made me aware of the upcoming performances of the drama club. I would guess that Hikki and Yukinon would also be super curious how the drama club was doing after we had helped them._

 _Therefore I decided to take action and would take them along to one of these performances. When I was sure that was what I wanted I became totally giddy about it. I couldn't wait until after Golden Week and wanted us to finally enjoy ourselves._

 _That is why I will suggest that we are going to one of the rehearsals, those two will surely appreciate having fewer people around._

* * *

I had a feeling in my gut that this day was going to be bad. For once, Yuigahama behaved very conspiratorially throughout the entire day and secondly I was a little worried about what would await me this afternoon in the gymnasium when I was meeting Kawasaki to watch the rehearsal of Macbeth.

Originally, I had only planned to go to the clubroom to tell my club mates I would be unavailable today but Yuigahama began to whine and pout until I agreed to hear her out.

Her excitement made her jumble her words and left me confused. I gathered that she wanted us to attend today's rehearsal and I asked how she knew about this rehearsal. When she said that Ebina told her I was left with even more riddles.

Ebina was also Kawasaki's source about the rehearsals and I could not exclude the possibility that they were all working together. Yuigahama's excited yapping quickly pressured Yukinoshita into agreeing to her plans.

I also kept quiet because I was simply overwhelmed by the enthusiasm that rolled off of her in waves.

My fears subsided a little bit when Ebina and Zaimokuza were joining us when we went to the gymnasium, it seemed like Yuigahama had taken great care to assemble those who had helped the drama club in putting on this show.

When we rounded the corner to the gymnasium Kawasaki was already waiting at the entrance. Going against her routine she wore her blazer on this rather warm afternoon in late April, her ribbon adorned her shirt and her socks were not crumpled but were stretched over her legs and served to accentuate her height.

However, her face spoke a different language when it dawned on her that the group I was at the back of was slowly approaching the gymnasium.

When Yuigahama called out to her, presumably to greet her, Kawasaki, without giving an answer, slowly turned around and stalked away.

It caused a bit of confusion in our group but only I grasped the full extent of what had happened. Out of a desire to not cause a fuss and to analyze and weigh my options I kept quiet.

The play began, the witches were dressed like magical girls and Zaimokuza immediately began salivating at the sight but I could not concentrate on what happened in front of my eyes.

During one of the many pauses the female director used to provide further instructions I considered sneaking out and looking for Kawasaki. First of all, to save my own hide, to proclaim my innocence that what she had thought to be like a private performance turned into just another loud group outing. In my defense I also thought about apologizing on Yuigahama's behalf.

Then again apologizing for Yuigahama only exacerbated that I kept quiet and did not adequately consider Kawasaki's expectations.

During these minutes of wrapping my head around my current conundrum I hated myself for going with the flow. If I would stick to my loner ways and tenets this situation would not have even arisen in the first place. I would not have to deal with any of this if I secluded myself from everyone and only sought out company when it was on my terms.

Even if I had the guts or correct words to make things right my indecisiveness had already dashed my chances. I had no idea where to find Kawasaki.

My whole avenue of thought was, of course, pointless. I could rage against the heavens and self-pity myself all I could want and it would all be for naught.

But the problem is that there is no free will, at least not in a practical manner. I could blink whenever I wanted to and thus I must conclude that my will is free.

The first objection to that is biological because biologically speaking the above statement is not true, bodily functions are guaranteed to occur in spite of a conscious decision.

Therefore a free will is not really 'free' but only exists within certain limits.

Furthermore, free will is not what it is all touted up to be. Choice is simply an illusion - a virtual value. If I am presented with several options I will eventually choose one and move on from that, continuing onwards on the causal trajectory of my previously elected choice.

If my mind was wiped to the exact point before I took that choice and I had only the information that was already in my possession prior to my choice I would always choose the same thing and proceed from there.

Consequently, free will is not the realization of alternatives but rather the mere possibility of alternative outcomes. The Hikigaya Hachiman I am, would always take the same choice at the same place in time and end up in the same way.

 _I hate to live with some of my choices._

Perhaps this is how Hayama feels, eschewing the concept of choice overall and embracing a form of stillness because that choice may have alternatives but it will always only be that one choice that further steers away from what he deems to be an acceptable status quo.

For a very brief time I considered how enviable and wonderfully mindless the lives of people in gum commercials from bygone decades must be like. [5]

Almost half an hour after the rehearsal had begun Kawasaki returned and plopped herself down on an empty seat next to Ebina. With her came a cloud of peppermint fragrance that almost made me want to gag. Or maybe that was because her arrival only put more salt into the wound that was my paralysis.

Everyone looked at her when she sat down with us but she kept her eyes ahead and glued to the stage. Her blazer was gone and so was the ribbon, the socks were crumpled. She looked like the usual delinquent mess.

Nobody uttered a word.

Ebina was sniffing the air, desperate for oxygen if I interpreted the flaring of her nostrils correctly.

Yuigahama and Yukinoshita were also starting to become inconvenienced and restive. The only one who did not get infected by the general anxiety was Zaimokuza who, in true loner fashion, spent all of his attention on the actors and probably looked out for lines he could appropriate for his own attempts at writing.

Despite this interruption we kept quiet for the entire duration of the play.

Afterwards the director and Nagato-san approached us to ask how our experience was. The director was mainly concerned with the believability of the actors and asked a lot of general questions. Nagato-san stayed on the technical side of things and asked about the acoustics and if the lighting was appropriate.

Then they turned to an unexpected topic and questioned if the outfits were to our liking.

"They were certainly appropriate. Regal, yet dark colors for Macbeth but I was especially fascinated by how the effect of the bloody hands of Lady Macbeth were achieved."

Nagato-san pointed towards Kawasaki.

"That was Kawasaki-senpai's idea."

Now receiving all the attention Kawasaki made a lazy defensive gesture.

"Just long white gloves with some color packs on the inside, every time she balls her hands into fists red color is released."

Yukinoshita looked at her with honest appraisal.

"Simple, yet effective and thus commendable."

"I kind of liked the battle scene at the end but didn't understand some of it." said Yuigahama.

To be honest I was also rather impressed. They apparently used the younger male members of the club as soldiers and let them fight in slow motion while the protagonist moved normally and delivered their lines. It was quite cinematic without distracting from the real content.

Yuigahama clarified some of her grievances.

"Why were the fighters wearing green patches?"

Nagato-san scratched her head in embarrassment, it was obvious that my bun-haired classmate had not grasped all of the story.

"That symbolized the forest, Yuigahama-san. They were using the green to hide their numbers and surprise the enemy."

"Right, Yukinoshita-senpai. The green was from some really big camouflage clothes that were donated to the club some time ago."

I had a slight idea who would be idiotic enough to buy camouflage outfits while living in a big city like Chiba and would subsequently give them away because he had not considered that camouflage gear meant that he had to spend time outside in order to really use it.

At least Zaimokuza had the decency to look away when I turned to face him.

"Can you explain why they had these small round shields, I always thought those need to be big or they offer no protection."

I was also a little bit curious because I had assumed that a bigger shield conveyed better stats like it was in any good RPG.

Once again Yukinoshita offered herself to explain things to her fellow club member.

"They were storming the castle at the end, bigger shields hinder mobility in this case."

"But Yukinon, the main characters were holding these big triangles."

The Service Club president sighed.

"Those are called 'heater shields'. I would venture a guess that main characters had to stand out and they needed to show off their heraldic symbols. "

"But why couldn't they just use the same small round shields for better m-mobility, Yukinon?"

Yukinoshita played with a strand of her hair as if this conversation was totally obvious to anyone. But as I noticed myself leaning forward to hear more of her explanation I spotted the same movements from our entire group.

Zaimokuza was looking at Yukinoshita as if he wanted to inhale every precious word she said for later use in his next shitty piece of fiction.

But Ebina and even Kawasaki appeared to be genuinely enthralled by this very specific knowledge that Yukinoshita was throwing around so carelessly.

"Heater shields are more for elite shock troops who probably did not fight through the whole battle from beginning to end and thus could afford a heavier shield. The edges are not only there to redirect blows from swords or other weapons but the pointy end could also be used to strike a blow and incapacitate an enemy, for example by striking their neck and making them pass out because their oxygen supply would be cut off for a short duration."

I turn towards my bespectacled classmate and whisper the question that is currently on my mind to her.

"Don't tell me you are into this, too."

She clicks her tongue in annoyance and shakes her head as if I am a particularly slow child.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Hikitani! You have no idea what excites a maiden's heart."

Her eyes get that dangerous glint again.

"Young men pressed together in a shield wall - life and death - the suspension bridge effect in full effect and a whole family of weapons with such an outrageous name like 'pole arms'."

 _Well, at least one of us has her priorities straight and reliable._

A pack of paper tissues lands in Ebina's lap.

"Thanks, Saki-Saki!"

I had no idea historical accuracy in regards to the military was in such a high demand. If I could I should immediately invest my savings into properties like 'Gunka no Baltzer' and 'Historie' [6].

"I had no idea, Yukinon."

Yukinoshita shrugs Yuigahama's praise off as if this kind of information is simply to be expected of a normal high school student. Instead Sobu's ice princess turns to Kawasaki and gifts her with an honest compliment.

"I found the attire to be both utilitarian and suitable for the historical period."

My fellow loner effortlessly deflects any attempts at being flattered.

"Honestly I just looked at pictures and tried to apply common sense as to what to use."

Yukinoshita gives a playful smile.

"Common sense is what many people are in dire need of."

With the atmosphere thus somewhat lightened in our group we continue to answer questions and give advice to the drama club about the play.

Afterwards, with Yukinoshita, Yuigahama and Ebina once again swamped with the adoring kouhais from the drama club and Zaimokuza off to somewhere where he probably can commit as much as he can remember from Yukinoshita's history lectures to paper, I get a chance to speak to Kawasaki and I try to make right what went wrong.

"Listen, Kawasaki, I am really sorry."

Without really looking at me she replies "Don't worry, will try not to hold it against ya."

She seems to avoid my eyes and I do one of the greatest sacrifices I am capable of - I offer her my free time out of my own volition.

"If you want to we can study again during Golden Week."

My pony-tailed classmate briefly looks at me and then redirects her eyes.

"Can't do that, my grandparents will be over during that time and I won't be really free."

She taps with one finger repeatedly against her hips as if in thought.

"But maybe after Golden Week will be fine."

When our group leaves the gymnasium, one scary woman is waiting for us outside. Haruno approaches us with the levity of a butterfly that is hiding her true nature as an angered bee [7].

"Yahallo, you people. I came to pick up my lovely sister because I miss her presence so much."

She takes her younger sister by the hand and comes dangerously close to me. The elder Yukinoshita uses this opportunity to whisper into my ear "My, my, all these additions to your harem, Hikigaya, a girl can get really jealous when she's not invited into the fun."

I shrink back from her tickling breath that is so close to my ear.

"Now, we'll have to leave. Say goodbye to your friends, Yukino!"

 _I really wish Haruno's sudden appearances were accompanied by a fitting forewarning like static electricity in the air or the smell of sulphur._

We all go our separate ways after that. I would have thought that Kawasaki and I could go part of the way together or at least ride our bikes in a loose formation but she takes off without waiting for me.

When I arrive at home I am greeted by a particularly annoyed little sister.

"I already heard all about what happened today, you trashy Onii-chan. You really fail at life."

My subsequent attempt to point out that someone who fails at life must logically succeed in death and therefore has the last laugh is wholly ignored.

 _Maybe I should reconsider the idea of putting some of my sister's DNA into resin in order to preserve her for future generations._

* * *

[1] Female protagonist of the manga 'Kimi Wa Petto'

[2] The protagonist of the medieval Japanese novel 'The Tale of Genji'. Famous for raising a small child to be his bride.

[3] Hikigaya is talking about the characters from 'Servant x Service'.

[4] 'White Day' is one month after Valentine's Day and it is the day the boys are expected to return the favor of Valentine's Day and give gifts to the girls.

[5] Search for mentos commercials from the 90s on the internet and bathe in a sea of some of the most punch-worthy and disgustingly happy riajuu faces you will probably ever lay your eyes on.

[6] Both mangas are very accurate in regards to the time period they portray and especially in military matters.

[7] A slightly paraphrased quote from Muhammed Ali.

 **Author's Note:**

Goals for this chapter:

Have some part of the story deal with the future because the characters are in their third year and even the people around them are growing up. Experiment a little by describing the characters outfits and see if that adds anything. Have some more Yuigahama. Portray the date in the usual manner of an Oregairu rendezvous - (at best) partial failure.

I guess I cannot avoid it much longer, it's drama time now. Pseudo-philosophical teenage angst - oh, how I thought I had left you behind all these years ago.

I got the idea about Rumi's involvement because of a PM conversation, I can only hope I could do that person's input justice because that is the best kind of gratitude I can provide at the moment.

I guess the lesson here is that it is a good thing if reviewers share some of their expectations or what elements of a story tickled their imagination. A lot of these will be inevitably shot down because an author needs to focus on what he wants to tell but it can happen that this kind of feedback can align with the author's vision as it was in this case.

OMAKE:

"Keika!"

"Komachi!"

"Haruno!"

"By your sisterly powers combined, I am CAPTAIN MATCHMAKER."


	6. Step: 80,000

Standard Disclaimer: I don't own Oregairu and I do not make money publishing this story.

* * *

A Journey Of A Thousand Miles

* * *

 **AN:** A word of warning - this chapter was released as a kind of double feature together with the fifth chapter because I have to rush these updates due to an upcoming hiatus. So make sure you read these chapters in the right order.

Me - Hikigaya Hachiman - having a harem?

That is a preposterous, an utterly absurd notion. Not only do I lack the qualifications for a harem protagonist, I also lack the willingness.

A harem is a still frame, a picture frozen in time. There is no progress, just the 'happily ever after' that is common to fairy tales and incompatible with the real world. The modern harem is an impossible concept because it does never try to address the march of time. Would the dynamics not change if someone got ill, pregnant or promoted? Would some important relationship aspects not change over time?

I should not put too much weight into Haruno's words, she is the wrong ally of justice [1].

With the recent heavy atmosphere in the Service Club I had decided to spend Golden Week holed up at home and planning how I could address the uneasiness of my fellow Service Club members and how I could mend my relationship with Kawasaki who had stopped to send me her regular mails filled with recipes and tips where to go shopping for ingredients.

It might be only because she is currently occupied with her family but I am worrying about it nonetheless.

This year my parents did not go on a vacation and took Komachi with them which meant that I could not stay at home and just ask for whatever money they would have spent on me during this vacation.

The early free days were peaceful enough with both of them sleeping to recover from their dreadful existence as corporate slaves. But when they had recovered they began to prod Komachi and me to go outside or to do 'fun family stuff' with them which inevitably ended with my father dispensing unwanted advice about life.

Luckily, Komachi had the right idea and persuaded them to go on a 'date day'. Her reasoning was that our parents should not be shackled by their kids and instead use a portion of the free time they had earned and keep it to themselves.

My grateful father left us some money to feed ourselves for the day. When he saw me walking down the stairs and rubbing my eyes at 11 am, he discretely put a little bit more money on Komachi's pile.

I was looking forward to another day of laziness and the occasional brainstorming concerning what to do but I was pulled out of a particular engaging gaming session when my phone vibrated to signal me that it had received a new message.

~Kyah, Onii-chan. Your cute little sister has taken the meaning of 'date day' to heart and she's using this fine weather to eat this year's first ice-cream with her favorite member of the Kawasaki family ~

I could only stare in disbelief at this brazen message.

Her favorite member of the Kawasaki household was undoubtedly Keika but with her grandparents there that meant that the younger children had to stay with the grandparents in order to be spoiled rotten. Similarly the eldest sibling also has to be there in order to get blamed for anything and generally be helpful towards their ungrateful relatives.

 _Source: Me._

That left only one option and it was the most horrible one to any responsible onii-chan. She was currently meeting with that insect and poor excuse for an older brother to Keika.

I shot out of my seat and sprinted to my bike. Being the good older brother that I am I obviously know Komachi's favorite ice cream shops. Usually I was the one who had to accompany her to them and she claimed it was her form of community service, which was naturally worth a lot of points, to lure me outside

It would only take me ten minutes to reach the first shop and it would be the easiest place to find her because that location did not allow you to take you ice cream outside.

As I pedaled towards my destination I envisioned what I would do to that disgusting insect. I dare not imagine how he would look at my sister while she was innocently indulging herself with a popsicle or an ice cream cone.

 _They are not there._

I could boil him alive and feed use his insect flesh for some fishbait.

My resolve becomes only stronger as I push onwards to another possible hotspot

 _They are not here either._

I want to break his limbs one by one.

 _No trace of them at this location._

The last place Komachi likes to visit for ice cream is near a park and I waste nearly half an hour searching the entire damn vicinity.

~Ugh, it has become really hot all of a sudden. That reminds Komachi - it's going to be summer soon. I should buy a new swimsuit and get the design approved by my favorite member of the Kawasaki family~

The brat is toying with me, there is no doubt. But I cannot abandon her on the off-chance that the despicable insect has somehow acquired a Geass and is manipulating my precious Komachi.

There are only a few places that cater to Komachi's physique but on the other hand as a lone male I am the most suspicious customer there is for these establishments.

I am going to push him in front of a train.

 _Hm, not a single hint of them here._

I will make him eat Yuigahama's cooking.

 _The clerk at this store has not seen them either._

I will reroute all the scary mails from Hiratsuka-sensei to his phone.

 _Where are they?_

~Ugh, that made Komachi thirsty, time for an iced coffee.~

I will make him read Zaimokuza's stories.

 _Why is this happening to me?_

I will make him watch as Zaimokuza acts out his stories.

 _What have I done to deserve this anguish?_

~I'm at home, Onii-chan.~

With my last ounce of energy I manage to park my bike in our carport.

When I stumble into our living room Komachi is sitting alone with her feet under the kotatsu with Kamakura sidling up to her. If I were not be so exhausted I would be extremely shouting because I just wasted an entire afternoon chasing her. With ragged breath I step in front of her to give her the lecture of a lifetime.

Then I see that she has been crying. Her eyed are bloodied and her face is still red. My onii-chan instincts return with a vengeance. Whatever he did to her, I will repay him 80,000 times.

"Onii-chan?"

Komachi's voice which is usually vibrant and full of life has been reduced to a pitiful mewling. I put a hand on her head to assure her that I am at her side while I am inwardly practicing how I will call the police in order to have him arrested.

"What did he do?"

"Nothing, onii-chan."

"Do not protect someone who obviously hurt you, what did he do?"

Her voice returns a little bit but it is still laced with the roughness of someone who just bawled her eyes out.

"He didn't do anything, she-"

I am completely at a loss here, who is the third person now?

"Who?"

"Saki-san-"

"What did she do?"

"She just spoke to me."

"What did she say?"

"N-nothing"

"Tell me! What did she say!"

Komachi takes a deep breath.

"A lot of t-things and I can't repeat them all. So f-for now-"

She looks at me with teary eyes.

"-I want you to act more like an Onii-chan and not like a Hachiman."

I must admit that I cannot follow her logic.

"What does that even mean?"

She weakly pulls me down so that I can sit next to her. Tired as I am from all the searching I am easily molded into a cushion for her. She lays her head on my shoulder and steadies her breathing.

"Komachi does not need you right now to analyze what she said but more like something to hold on to."

She buries her face in my shirt.

"Komachi needs to trade in a lot of points."

After a while she seems to have calmed down. I can only feel small patches of wetness through my shirt. when she finally gets up she just stares at me with sad eyes.

"I'm sorry, onii-chan"

My wreck of a little sister then leaves for her room.

That evening my phone lights up with another message.

-We've got stuff to discuss.-

* * *

-We've got stuff to discuss.-

The message is simple and straight to the point like its sender.

Given what state she reduced my sister to, however temporary, I certainly have things to discuss with someone who has had my sympathies so far.

A few other messages are sent between us and we agree on the school's rooftop as our meeting place on the first day of school after Golden Week.

Kawasaki arrives very late that day and does not look at me even once when she enters our classroom. Only her very deliberate stiff walk betray an enormous tiredness to me who has gotten accustomed to her movement patterns.

For the duration of the whole day whenever the situation allows for it she amuses herself by gazing out of the window next to her seat.

 _Who do you think you are? Some kind of heroine?_

When the regular school hours have finally passed I instruct Yuigahama not to expect me in the clubroom on this day while Kawasaki slips out.

She awaits me on the staircase that leads to the roof and wordlessly ascends the steps as she sees me. I follow her with a urgency that is quite unusual to me.

My fellow loner is already opening the door to the roof when she reappears in my field of vision.

As I enter into the humid summer air Kawasaki is already climbing the ladder that leads to the water tower. I recognize this territory as her loner lair, the area where one retreats to in order to appreciate being alone.

Zaimokuza has the library, I have the small exit that leads to the tennis courts and Kawasaki has the roof.

Each with their own advantages and disadvantages. Zaimokuza has central heating and air conditioning but has to watch out for those who might disturb his peace or to be more correct for those he might creep out. Kawasaki, although blessed with a far quieter spot has to contend with the weather to a greater degree and lacks room for evasive maneuvers should the need arise.

That leaves my own space as the last and best. I can enjoy the weather if I so choose to or stay inside. Nobody really uses that small entrance and disturbs my calm. But above all I can watch Totsuka train and listen to his cute grunts when he exerts himself on the tennis courts.

Like an unwanted déjà vu the stagnant summer air is interrupted by a gust of wind that reveals the color of her underwear to me as she reaches the top but the feeling is not as exhilarating as the first time.

 _Black again, huh? How appropriate of her to wear a color of mourning._

So she is leading me here where she will have the home advantage. Not that heights make me dizzy or that I suspect foul play from her but my steps turn cautious while I climb up to join her.

When I arrive she is already pulling two cans out of her schoolbag. One with some energy drink that is probably meant to keep her awake and delicious MAX Coffee for me. Not that my mood will be significantly lightened by free beverages but the gesture is appreciated.

Her next move, however surprises me, as it is utterly alien to me at this point. She pulls out a pack of cigarettes, sticks one of them between her lips and lights it up.

The only woman I am used to seeing with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth is Hiratsuka-sensei. It almost feels like an extension of her at this point. In contrast Kawasaki glares at the object in her hand as if has mortally offended her entire family. She smokes like she wants to personally end this cigarette's existence.

"I'm sorry, Hikigaya."

My face remains impassive.

"Say that to my sister."

Kawasaki allows herself one drag of her cigarette before she exhales deeply.

"Already did."

"And she apparently forgave you for whatever reason and she cannot stop stressing that point. Tell me, what did you say to her?"

Kawasaki smiles humorlessly at nothing in particular.

"She said that you would ask for that."

Kawasaki inhales deeply and steels herself.

"She secretly picked up my brother in the afternoon and sent me a message where to find them both. My whole family was at our home and on that afternoon I was the stupid, irresponsible, older sibling who just let their eldest grandson goof off instead of spending time with them."

She gulps a little bit.

"She did not want to meet with my brother, that much was clear to me. She wanted for us to meet because we hadn't see each other since that stupid rehearsal."

My classmate's hands ball into fists.

"I didn't want any help and I especially didn't want it that way and so I shouted at her for using my brother and making decisions for me."

She exhales deeply to calm herself

"Do you know what makes you interesting for others?"

"I get easily roped into doing stuff for them?"

"No, uh, do you know what makes you s-specifically interesting for m-me?"

"I get easily roped into doing stuff for you?"

Despite her best efforts to suppress her reaction, the corners of her mouth twitch upwards, even if only for a second.

Her eyes become more distant and her tone turns softer.

"Remember how we met after you found out I was bartending?"

Although I am confused as to how that could have left an interesting impression I nod in affirmation.

"You brought my brother, your whole club and even your sister along. I thought I was in for a sermon and that you would use my brother to put pressure on me."

Kawasaki looks forlornly into the distance like a shipwrecked sailor who has been holding out for years on a deserted island and is struggling to remember the shape of a ship.

"You didn't chew me out and you did even admit that you were using your cram school scholarship to embezzle money from your parents. You didn't make me feel like I was the only one who was a bad guy that morning."

She lets a little bit of ash from the tip of her cigarette fall into the can of her sports drink using it like a makeshift ashtray.

"That's what made you interesting in my eyes."

She slowly turns to face me as if she has to adjust to the sensation that I am still present.

"You know why I am telling you all this, right?"

I have an idea or two. She is pointing out that I did not instrumentalize her brother to further my agenda. A lesson that, despite her presence, Komachi did not pick up on. The other option is a territory that my mind fears to tread upon.

Out of instinct I look around me to search for an escape route.

Kawasaki eyes me with concern.

"Something wrong?"

I choose to reply with the first thing that enters my mind.

"We are a bit high up here."

Kawasaki scrunches up her face.

"Are you feeling sick? If you have vertigo ya wouldn't have gotten up here in the first place."

 _Damn, she saw through my ruse._

"Just look at your feet or focus on the horizon that usually makes it go away."

 _And now I feel bad for making her worry._

Those were her words - 'You know why I am telling you this.' She wants me to be introspective and consider the situation seriously. It is a poisoned well she is making me drink from. But once you taste poison you might as well finish the meal [2].

Kawasaki sees the gears turning in my head and tells me what I have been fearing all along.

"I like you."

She shakes her head as if to chase away an unwanted thought.

"I think I love you."

Silence reigns between us for a while. She puts the glimmering cigarette on her can and watches the smoke curl up.

"I am not as graceful as Yukinoshita and neither am I as girlish as Yuigahama but I would still like to have you as my boyfriend."

I should hate myself for being unable to shut off my brain but a question that I cannot extinguish forces itself to the forefront of my mind.

"Out of curiosity, what will you do if I will not answer?"

"I will ask again and again until you've either chosen one of the others or until this school year is over and we will part ways."

The whole situation leaves me with a distinct feeling of wrongness. This is not a confession, not a good one, not even a hasty one. This is the perfect rejection for Kawasaki's feelings.

She lit up a cigarette because she does not expect me to say yes and seal the deal with a kiss.

She does not expect to be chosen because she exalts the charming points of her rivals and does not even mention her own.

She placed the cigarette like an offering is placed on altar for the dead.

She wears black lace because this is supposed to be a sad occasion.

She chose this place because it is her own, this is her youth and I can end it with a simple word.

This is the first time I am on the receiving end of a social suicide and even the prospect hurts unimaginably. I am a little bit scared.

For the longest time I stay silent. I do not know if I can answer her honestly. Meanwhile Kawasaki has retreated into a fetal position, the wind from the sea plays with her bangs and obscures her eyes. I smell salt and I do not know where it is coming from.

I could reject her and choose anyone of the other two or perhaps even Isshiki will one day start to lose hope in catching Hayama. However, there is a logical problem for me. One that has made me skirt the issue with my fellow club members and is responsible for me trying to avoid them and keeping them at a distance since that fateful day.

When I opened my heart to them and selfishly told them that I desired something genuine I barred that way for them.

How can I accept something as genuine when prior to that I have to say I want the genuine thing? It is like telling someone to be more sporadic - it is a paradox that cannot be solved.

It should be clear that I definitely think they are capable of giving me something genuine. But what I fear is my own doubt, that it could gnaw away at all they would freely give me and that it would ultimately destroy us.

Even so, even if I accept Kawasaki I will still be in doubt, this time if I am worthy of her. That form of doubt however, I would probably have with any woman that would choose someone like me.

I decide to give Kawasaki an honest answer.

"I do not dislike you."

For a short moment she cramps up and then lets loose. I said what I truly think but it is not a answer to her question. I should not presume that she understands, we are both too flawed for that.

Time does not suffer itself to be halted; there is no question of prudent retreat or wise renunciation. Only dreamers believe that there is a way out. Optimism is cowardice [3].

I choose to fight my doubts.

"This is not a rejection."

* * *

[1] 'Seigi no Mikata' - 'Ally of Justice' is a manga about an evil older sister who gets fawned over by nearly everyone.

[2] A quote from 'Spice and Wolf'

[3] A quote from Oswald Spengler, a very pessimistic German philosopher/historian

 **Author's Note:**

Goals for this chapter: Character development for Komachi because she is not the only Hikigaya who needs to grow up. Make a believable confession for the monster of logic and address the elephant in the room - the golden calf of the fandom - the issue of what is genuine because I think it's fa too often used as a crutch-

I know this is probably all rushed and could have profited from more time but that is exactly what I am lacking at the moment since I might only have time write in several months at the earliest. I sincerely apologize for cluttering the email inbox of those who are following this story.

This was what partly what I envisioned when I began to turn this into a multi-chapter story. I wanted a confession that was not straight out of a fairy tale but slow and filled with the doubts of an inexperienced teenager who is prone to overthinking.


End file.
